The end is where we start from, part 2 of 3
by finnhere2
Summary: Does the new morning bring any light? 7/24 mild editing done in some chapters to make them read easier.
1. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Ray woke up to the quiet clattering coming from the kitchen. He didn't want to wake up really but a crash and a curse made his heart jump and shook sleep from him – and Georgie who dashed beside him, eyes huge and tail like bad bottle brush. "Bodie? What the hell was that?"

To Ray's immense relief, black-haired head peeked in. "Sorry mate, the kettle slipped. Luckily it was only water. Did that wake you up?"

"Thank god I was awake already, would have got a freakin' heartattack..."

"Just a sec, I only dry the table a little. We'll get breakfast soon."

A moment later Bodie appeared to sight and Ray winced seeing the tube and cans. Without a word the lethal ex para got gingerly himself down on his knees, and started to clean his mate gently, almost tenderly, with the towels and warm water he had managed to bring beside Ray's mattress without waking Ray. This time he was more thorough, cleaning every square inch of bare skin he could reach without moving his partner, and wiping it dry immediately. He was inspecting his mate at the same time, and noticed a tender spot on the left side of Ray's head, almost entirely covered with curls. "This hurt?"

"Just a bit, hardly noticed it with everything else..."

"Well this probably caused you to knock out." Bodie felt relieved, finding the answer why Ray had ended face in water without waking up, and so he totally missed embarassment Ray felt for his mate surveying so intently face that would for hours bear marks of tears.

All the other injuries were pretty much the same under Bodie's gently probing hands, although the bruises had started to gain colour. Bodie didn't much want to think what his own skin must look like, he had managed to avoid looking at the mirror in the bathroom.

Finally he was happy with the cleaning he had managed to perform, along with quick but thorough massage of Ray's thighs and legs to stimulate the circulation, and to his amusement Bodie noticed Georgie vigorously trying to groom Ray's stubble along the chin. He was glad for that distraction as Ray wouldn't certainly like what he needed to do next...

And Ray definitely didn't. Somehow, though, the humiliation felt a little less than it had felt the previous evening. Anyway it was nothing compared with what had happened before he fell asleep the last time... oh chrissake... and that cat... Ray swallowed, his eyes burning again. Bloody fucking falling apart. He wouldn't be able to work with Bodie, ever again. Not even if he would make it back to squad.

He heard Bodie's "_right, here goes..._" and flinched involuntarily, next gentle cleaning touch not bringing much comfort.

* * *

Ray hadn't been able to watch his partner the whole time, and had stayed silent, and it wasnt' that hard for Bodie to guess why. Bodie gnawed his lip until twang of pain reminded him it had already been bitten to bleed, and tried to decide if he should talk with Ray now, or wait for a better moment. Scent of tea made him decide to leave it at least for a moment... so he gathered his gear and took it to bathroom, emptied and flushed the cans and washed his hands thoroughly before moving to kitchen where almost everything was neatly ready and even the ancient looking toaster behaved and accepted the slices of bread, and Bodie burned his fingers snatching the first bits of toast after he had loaded the tray to go to living-room. He took the second set when he returned to get Georgie's plate, but returning to the living-room he saw that his mate hadn't even touched the food.

Bodie sighed. He had a hunch that he wouldn't get anywhere by coaxing. "Right, mate. You may not have appetite but still you have to eat. I won't have any fancy gastric side-effects of those pills if you take them to empty stomach. This is the situation now: Either you eat at least your toast, and the egg, and drink your juice, or then I stuff them into you with me little hands. Your choice and you have one minute to decide."

The glare that met Ray's eyes was so grim that in his exhaustion Ray was not able to resist but silently accepted the offered piece of toast in his hand.

* * *

For once in his life, Bodie had to _force_ himself to swallow his breakfast, to make his mate follow his example. And when the last drops of juice had disappeared through the straw, Bodie managed to suppress the need to scruff those unruly curls. Oh god... this would be the longest day ever in his life. Ever.

And even worse for Ray.

Ray listened to his mate moving about, do the dishes, lit the fire with the last pieces of wood, move their things, check their clothes and spread the moist ones to dry... tidy man he was, Bodie, and seemingly didn't want to upset the owner of the cottage. And now he even appeared with a broom, chrissake...

"Oh dammit, no use swiping the floor before I get more wood in here".

Ray looked up to the man towering beside the mattress. Half-naked, bruised, scraped, scarred, one of the most feared men... maybe THE most feared after Cowley himself – well all right, and Mackin - in the whole CI5, broom in one hand, dust pan in the other, looking awfully annoyed... suddenly the sheer absurdity of that picture came through to Ray, and he couldn't suppress a chuckle. Pained and painful chuckle, but chuckle nevertheless.

Bodie looked down on him and put hands on his hips. "Sir it ain't nice ter laugh if I've forgotten me lil apron!"

Ray cracked. "Bodie don't do that..." the rest vanished into broken, halting, spasmic laughter. And a moment later neither of them knew if it was laughter or cry, Ray hand on his eyes, tears streaming down his face, barely able to breathe as it hurt like hell. A few minutes later he started to gain control over his breathing, soothed by a hand wiping his brow and soft hushing sound. "You're a bloody moron, Bodie."

Wiping didn't stop. "Sorry mate, just wanted to give you a smile. Wasn't thinking. Bloody hell, your chest must be in fire... sorry..."

Ray was quiet for a while apart from the sobs. "It wasn't the pain... dunno what happened, must have broken me wit too. Me nerve." He heard Bodie sigh.

"I know what it is. You should know that too, from your copper times if not from else. You've seen accidents. You're in shock, that's what it is. Plain and simple. Body and mind don't always take that at the same time. There's nothing wrong with your wit or nerve otherwise. It's just the shock."

Ray frowned. "Why not you then?" he managed to sound accusing. Still Bodie didn't stop the caressing movement.

"Well first, I wasn't hurt even close as bad. Besides when I woke up yesterday, I had to move quick and I guess that fiddling with you kept me focused. And here the pills knocked me out for most of the night. Who knows what happens when we get out from here then." Actually, Bodie didn't definitely want to know.

"And it's back to fiddling, mate. I may need help in getting dressed, have to go out and search for more firewood." He started to get on his feet again, stopped and looked down at his mate. "Listen Ray... you're the only one tough enough to be my partner. And the only one who can really take me. And the only one I trust. So for once in your life, please have some trust in me, will ya?" And although all his instincts told him to turn away, or at least try and make a joke, he stayed still and for once in his life, allowed someone to see inside of him.

Ray looked at the man kneeling beside him. He was feeling baffled... this was no Bodie. "I trust you... you know that. Wouldn't work with you if I didn't" Ray finally said, frowning.

"That's not what I mean!" Bodie sounded exasperated.

"Whaddya mean then?" Ray felt tired and frustrated, and oddly, intimidated.

Bodie was silent before he let out a deep sigh. "Just... trust. Trust _me_. Me as I am."

Again there was silence and Ray tried to read that face and posture with all the experience his years in police had given him – still he remained puzzled.

* * *

In the meantime a tiny face peeked out from under the quilt where Georgie had snuggled after his breakfast. The strange episode had frightened him some because he recognized the pain involved in the spasms and he didn't want to get bitten, but now things seemed to have settled down again. Tiny tabby felt that he could use some fluids again. And for him it was the most natural thing to go to the one that had bled, and ask for attention by gently pawing the feeding finger of the hand resting on thigh, and when the hand moved to stroke his chin, tug and lick it.

Ray saw Bodie look down at the little feline, and realised that the smile, genuine warm smile on that bruised face was born from some deep sadness. Hand capable of crushing the little animal in an instant, caressed the unproportional ears, fine underjaw, rubbed the thin cheeks, between the eyes... most gently and tenderly, and Georgie enjoyed the strength and touch, pushing his head deeper into the grip of the hand.

"You've got it right, Georgie... yeah you're the one who's got it right."

Ray saw Bodie swallow before lifting the kitten in his hand and against his chest... and bow his head to receive a purring sweet push against his stubbled chin that made him close his eyes for a moment. Bodie looked again at the face of purring tabby, gave Ray a glance he failed to comprehend, and said to kitten in a very serious tone: "Looks like I've got to leave it to you to explain".

And later, after quiet Bodie had eventually managed to get himself worked inside a pullover, trousers, boots and anorach, and left it to Ray to try and teach playful Georgie the art of drinking, Ray still wondered.


	2. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

PC Duncan Lennox had a headache. Aye he might have had it otherwise too, but surely the bottle of Cutty Sark he had shared with PC Baillie hadn't exactly worked as painkiller either. He wouldn't have even remembered the label if the empty bottle hadn't been the first thing his eye focused on when he finally managed to rip open his eyelids. It was peacefully resting on his pillow until movement made it roll down and fall on the floor.

Duncan dragged himself sit up on his bed – after carefully checking it was his, his memories of the previous evening were quite messy and blurred to say the least. He wished he could have said the same of the day... the sickness that flushed over him, he wasn't quite sure if it was the hangover or the uninvited rush of memories. Dully he stared at his hands and started to wake up to the pain coming from the small burns around his body, and scrapes made by the shreds of concrete and timber he got on his face. None had known there were those petrol-cans and the fume spread in that messy labyrinth, none paid attention at first with all the racket going on and trying to get the captured agents pulled out, not before the black Londoner with funny name... Jax, who had been assessing the two agents they found, had suddenly jerked his head up and roared a warning. Christ what lungs that thin man had. But that Jax had saved their lives, and the sharp orders starting to spit out from the R/Ts right after the Alpha One had got explanation to the shouts. Although it _wasn't_ their own Alpha One who gave those orders, and PC Duncan wondered briefly if Chief Constable Rutherford would even today enter same room with that old wolf of Criminal Intelligence 5, mr Cowley.

Auld Robbie had been there, and had told all bout it to him and Baillie and all the others who had been taken to get patched... Rutherford had wanted them to advance still deeper into that damned old warehouse despite the smell to capture the bastards, mister Cowley instead had wanted retreat, and when Rutherford had refused to order the men back, mister Cowley had shoved the plan of the building right into his face and asked him if he planned another _Charge of the damned Light Brigade_ as the building was a bloody death-trap if there would be explosion or fire. And when Rutherford had bellowed he had been affirmed the highest authority in this operation, mister Cowley had told him he wouldn't allow perfectly good men get killed, not the police, and definitely not his own, had pushed the man away from radio, and a mere nod from him had been enough, that female agent Fischer – and actually, also Sergeant Douglas, good man, those two had stepped in between and pushed Rutherford and the radist farther off. Rutherford still had shouted about his authority while the old man had listened to reports making marks to the plan and ordering the retreat-routes, and mister Cowley had calmly told the bugger to either shut up or get out. As the man did neither, that old devil had merely given a glance over his glasses, said in a quiet tone "Remove him" and this agent Fischer had whisked the Chief Constable away as if he was nothing more than some drunken hooligan at Pittodrie Stadium. All that had maybe taken less than two minutes, or so Robbie said, and thank God for that old man, they all had got closer to the doors...

Suddenly sounds of firing pushed everything else from Duncan's mind, and the memory of hot lash on his cheek where a ricochet had passed his head like giving it a kiss. He had frozen... och, he still froze remembering. And then the flare... the explosion, och that too, but still, it was the flare, and the heat, noises in flames, the feeling of hell, and the kiss of death all in the same, and PC Baillie sitting against the wall, staring at his jammed sub. And all of a sudden, everywhere around them were flames, and the bastards were still shooting at them, until those two got back, goddammit they had come back for them, him, Baillie... the old man had ordered counts on entrances, everybody else was out but them, and those two, Doyle and Bodie, had rushed back and practically dragged them out while covering them at the same time... Och, those two, it was as if they had been reading each other's minds, everything was so smooth between them, they barely talked, and that shooting, if Duncan only could learn to be half as good...

Duncan sighed and forced himself into bathroom. Aye, right, no use thinking about that one, he'd be probably quietly knocked into penpushing, after yesterday... he didn't know what had come over him, he was usually just as cool as the next man, but he knew that if those two hadn't come, hadn't pulled him out, hadn't forced him move, he'd be dead, a charred lump they'd try to recognize from his teeth. And the thought of that, and the image, finally made young constable yield to nausea.

* * *

An hour later he had managed to swallow some breakfast. Anyway, he knew that Baillie couldn't be in much better condition, that was a sort of comfort. Except that Baillie wouldn't need to drag his arse to the station today, he'd left his report already yesterday while Duncan had rushed to the hospital hearing the latest from the doctors who would operate his grandfater today. He'd arranged his own burns be re-checked by a nurse now in the morning, as he'd go meet Gramp the last time before the op. And he should try to reach the two agents again, Gramp had said it was allright the men were there, good men as they were, he'd like to meet them when they got back to city. Duncan had tried to phone before he set off with Baillie, och those pints, he should have skipped them... or the whisky afterwards... aye he should ask Gramp if the phone had been acting up.

So. Gramp first, nurse second, finishing the cursed report third, and he would try to reach Bodie and Doyle again from the station. Maybe after that he would start feeling at least somewhat human.


	3. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Ray tried in vain to make Georgie calm down. Tiny tabby looked a lot more energetic than the evening before, performing all kinds of stunts making funny excited noises, climbing on the sofa and walking – wobbly but proudly – on the backrest before trying to get on the table and falling less than gracefully on his butt; and on the floor ripping the tissue-paper Bodie had left for Ray, burrowing under the quilt in a dash, attacking Ray's fingers, even daring to tap Ray's face with his paws in a mock-attack. That made Ray flinch again involuntarily, and the tabby immediately stopped and started to brush his head against Ray, and sneaked as carefully as ever possible to Ray's side, purring and licking the bare skin and stubble, relaxing only when Ray reached for him and stroked him telling it was all right. Georgie was still frighteningly thin, Ray was able to count the tiny bones under his fingertips after managing to coax the kitty climb on his abdomen where he was able to stroke with both hands. Georgie twisted and turned happily, now on his left side, now on his back, purring non-stop, pawing lazily, using his needle-like teeth and nails very gently and tenderly on Ray's hands and fingers, making sure it was every time followed by a lick to reassure the hurt giant mate it was all play.

Ray couldn't help smiling and talking to the tiny feline. Georgie seemed to be listening to him and occasionally turned to watch him intently, as if really trying to understand what was being said. He seemed to particularly enjoy pushing his head into Ray's grip, each time rewarding the hand with loudest purr.

"Hey, don't you know that I could crush your head, mate? And Bodie he's the real baddie, you have no idea... you really should be more careful in choosing your company, eh, tiger? You don't know what we can be like..." Georgie blinked at Ray with an expression Ray could have sworn to be a smile and pushed his head again into Ray's grip. "I bet he's broken far thicker necks than yours, little chum... he's not the Mister Nice Guy you've seen... not me either... " Sudden thought struck Ray and he stopped and stared at the kitten.

What if he does know?

What if the kitten does know exactly that we are capable of hurting, killing? That we are capable of killing HIM?

That I could kill him this instant if I only wanted?

Georgie was looking at Ray straight into his eyes and the purring stopped for a moment. Then, once more, tabby pushed himself into Ray's grip and started that special sound again, and even when the fingers around him tightened, and tightened, his gaze didn't falter from Ray's face and the sound stopped only when the kitten wasn't able to fill his lungs anymore. And still he watched Ray right into his eyes, in perfect calm.

And the instant Ray released him, the kitten only shook himself, crept oh so carefully over his chest, and settled himself, yes, purring, right under Ray's chin, softly grooming his stubble once again.

_He knows,_ thought Ray. _He knows I can do it._

_And he knows I won't do it._

_But what if I had done it?_

_It would have killed me if I did_.

Thump from the door startled Georgie, who then happily rushed to greet emerging Bodie who carried a small pile of firewood on his arm. Gush of cold air made Ray shiver and his mate hastily pushed the door shut with his foot before entering the living-room to relieve himself from his burden.

Ray got worried when he noticed how stiffly and gingerly his mate lowered himself to get rid of the wood and load the fireplace, and how little wood there was. "You found some" he tried to sound content.

"Yeah there's plenty, and I loaded the wheelbarrow, that's no problem...", Ray noticed a grimace, "but this fucking arm is. I forgot it this morning in kitchen with that bloody kettle, dunno what happened but now it's almost useless...", Bodie sighed, "and hurts like hell all the way down from shoulder."

Ray frowned. "Well you've broken that one at least once before, mate. We should try to put it in a sling once you've got a bit more wood in here."

Bodie tried to shake his head but stopped the movement short with pang of pain. "Nope not yet, I have to go check the road a bit farther off. At least I want to see what happened, before the snow covers track."

Only now Ray noticed wet patches on his mate's anorach. "Snow?"

"Yepp, one friggin' Winter Wonderland on its way. It started to snow when I went out, and looks like it will bloody continue for hours if I can tell anything by those clouds. Last time ever that anyone will get me to set foot on these damned Highlands..."

With mighty effort the dark-haired man heaved himself on his feet again and went back to the door, returning in a moment with another pile which he unceremoniously dropped on top of the previous one seeing that Georgie had returned into safety beside the curls.

Both men were silent the next minutes while Bodie gradually filled the box beside the fireplace. Finally he straightened his back and checked the fireplace once more. "Ok there's wood enough for a couple of days and this fire should keep at least one hour or so. Whaddya think, do you manage without pills that far?"

Ray sighed. "I'd better, it isn't that long since the last and I think I chewed on them as candies last night... But I could take some water or something before you go."

Bodie responded without a word and after serving his mate, meant to go out.

Ray's quiet voice stopped him. "Promise you're careful, mate."

Bodie sneered. "I think I still can walk a few hundred yards without being babysitted, thank you for your confidence." Angrily he turned to leave.

"Bodie, I need you."

Ray's tone was undecipherable... and that simple sentence forced the ex-mercenary turn back and return to living-room's doorway. And just as keenly as the green eyes had surveyed his own face earlier, he studied Ray's.

Finally Ray allowed their eyes meet. "You're injured, Bodie. I may be an idiot otherwise, but I know you're hurt, and I worry over you. Your head. Not only because of myself... But hell yes, also because of myself. Because I can't move. Because you're the only one who can help me here. And Georgie. And because you're the only damned berk in the world who maybe could put up with me after we're out from here. And because you're the only one in the world I know who could have got me this far..." Ray swallowed "... just this once, please Bode, please, really be careful. If you trip or your foot slips... that might be too much. I can't come to help you if anything happens... and I mean, anything." To his own amazement, Ray Doyle realised that his worry over his partner was genuinely just as great as, or even greater than his worry over his own situation. And a sudden image of Bodie collapsing on the ground and snow starting to cover him, made Ray gasp.

The blue eyes softened when they approached Ray.

"No stunts, ok?" he whispered miserably.

"No stunts, golli." Small sad smile as Ray was being tucked into warmth right up to his chin. "Just there and back again, to the curve. And will be back to report to you. Half an hour, one hour maybe. I'll follow the road and take the old man's staff to help me not to slip" he promised. "But if you tell anyone at the HQ 'bout that, I'll wring your neck."

Both men still had the sad smiles on their faces when the door shut after Bodie and Georgie.


	4. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"Oi Gramp, how're you doing? Butterflies?"

"Maggots might be more like it, Duncan, seeing yer face. Got around last night, eh lad?"

Duncan blushed. But remembering how his face had looked like in the morning, he still wondered he was on his two feet at all.

"Like Grim Reaper himself fluttering in" chuckled his grandfather. "Aye now you got a bit colour on yer face at least. I mean, face other than your eyes." Duncan was already pure crimson. "Nah lad never you mind, sometimes it's good to flush yer head. And you're not the worst, don't worry... Oi, did you reach the two London coppers?"

"Gramp I told you they're not ordinary coppers, CI5 is... well, it's... a kind of special branch, some from police there, some military, some god-knows-what." Damned efficient they were anyway, Duncan sighed.

"Lad, couldn't care less if they were Martians, did you get hold of them or not?"

"No Gramp, couldn't get through. As if the line was dead."

"There was nothing wrong with the line when I called from there the evening before" the old man frowned. "I don't like this. Can they have broken the telephone while drinking?"

Duncan didn't hesitate "No Gramp, they're not the like. They may have a brawl in pub alright but they don't break things guests in good peoples' homes." Suddenly Duncan started to feel a little worried but he tried to shrug it off, and for a while they chatted about the bone-sawers and what they would do in his grandpa's hip in a few hours.

Gramp was a tight old bugger, and Duncan couldn't help but chuckle thinking the inquisition the poor medics must have gone through with the practical old farmer. "Just wanted to make sure I get the worth of me tax-money!" They both laughed at that.

Nurse popped in and told they would start prepare Gramp for the operation, so Duncan took his leave after promising to call first thing in the morning. He exchanged a few words with the nurses before searching the room for getting his burns re-checked. The burns didn't look that bad, thank God for small mercies, so after getting salve to take home with him, and certificate for a 3-day sick leave to give the Sergeant, Duncan headed to the station. Today's taxis would make a big hole to his meagre bank account.

* * *

Sergeant saw him in the corridor and already opened his mouth but then for some reason snapped it shut again and only asked him if he was in for the report, to which it was _aye_, and if he had another uniform to replace the one that got ruined, aye again, and if he would be back on duty tomorrow or on sick-leave, to which Duncan replied by handing on the paper from hospital and got instruction to leave his report on Sgt's desk before leaving.

He then escaped to his desk, and sat there for a moment before grabbing the phone and trying again to reach the Londoners. He had a sort of cold hollow feeling in his stomach and he tried to convince himself it was only the fear of handing over his pitiful report which would mostly include running, some aimless shots, more running and more even more aimless shots, and then getting completely frozen and needing to be rescued like a kitten from a tree. _Shite_...

Anyway he could do something useful today, so he contacted the switchboard again and asked to be connected to Gramp's telephone operator, as he didn't find the directory. He reported the problem there and got a reply someone would take a look as soon as possible, but it might take a couple of days before anyone could get there, as they had more top-priority repairs going on and were short of men.

So Duncan tried to switch on his PC-mode again, and managed with it for some good half an hour, trying desperately keep his report honest but still make it look a bit less disgraceful. All of a sudden he found his hand on the phone again, and in no time he was talking with the old PC who was holding the fort in the village of Muir. After the inevitable declaration of ancestry, the old PC informed him that no strangers had been seen in the village, _och aye Angus'es place_, no chance to get anyone there in several hours, he had to stay put by the phone and all available policemen of the area were occupied, there was a crashed lorry blocking the road in one place, fire in another, and the roads icy, but yes he would keep Londoners in mind, _och the posh CI5, goodness, Supermen themselves, eh_? And no, old Ferguson, nobody there, old man in hospital, hadn't Angus told that? And Mrs staying with her daughter in the village. But yes, if the Londoners came he'd ask them to give a call, ach no need for description, he could tell Southerners from a mile's distance... Capri? Well it takes an idiot to drive a Capri around here, in winter, hadn't Duncan told them that?

Duncan managed to get rid of the old constable eventually, his head simply couldn't take the chatty old fart any more. Not that it could take the report much better either, but at least he was sort of paid for it. At least for the time being...


	5. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Bodie stared, stunned, at the view which opened in front of his eyes when he finally made it to the curve. _Chrissake... _Part of the hillside had given away, and the telephone line was down, at least one pole must be buried there... Feeling shaken Bodie slowly walked to see down the bank and stared at the groove Capri had carved into it, and to the wreck he saw almost a dozen yards lower in the river. He remembered the sick feeling of somersault and thought for the first time that if they had driven their usual style, without using seatbelts, they both would most probably be lying dead somewhere down there... _For. Christ's. Sake._

For once in his life the cynic mercenary wondered whether there indeed could be some sort of providence; it felt unbelievable that they had actually escaped alive. Bodie felt sick hearing the shrieks of the car in his ears again, and he backed off hastily.

To pull his thoughts away from the fall Bodie forced himself to focus again on the mound of earth and stones covering the road a few feet deep. He had to see what was on the other side of it, and try and make some warning sign for the next driver who might not otherwise be as lucky as they had been. He couldn't see if the mound extended all the way round the bend, and there was only one way to find out. Apologizing in his mind from Ray he carefully started to find foothold but soon swallowed his pride, left the staff and lowered himself to practically on all four on the uneven and unstable ground. He tried to stay as far from the edge as possible, to give himself at least some fragments of a second more to react, should he lose his foothold.

Dragging Ray the previous evening, he had thought that he simply couldn't hurt more than that without being shot to pieces, but after the first minute he gasped of agony when his bruised muscles and tendons tried to handle his own bodyweight in awkward position and move him forward. It wasn't only his shoulder and arm, but his whole back felt like screaming and his legs started to feel weak out of strain when the dirt and rubble and stones gave way and he needed to find firmer hold. But finally the gasping, weary agent saw he was reaching his goal and getting back on solid road again, and to his horror he saw one telephone-pole fallen to point exactly to the middle of the road even before the collapsed hillside, hanging by the wires. Now Bodie knew what had hit the Capri, he must have driven straight to the fucking end of the pole in the dusk... yes. The snow hadn't yet covered the road totally, he saw the pole had been jerked by the impact, and the clear skid-marks led from the spot to the edge of the road farther off, where Capri had been dangling before falling down.

Bodie hoped there would have been something to lean or sit on as he felt he was shaking. In some corner of his conscious mind he knew that now it was he who was very close of going into a shock. Somehow he managed to force himself to straighten up again, and breathe deep, and make his thoughts return to the farm, to Ray. Bodie couldn't afford breaking down, not now, he would have to make it back to Ray, and he would have to leave a warning. That pole could kill the next driver, especially in darkness, and that could ruin even the last puny chances Ray might have to recovery. Bodie felt cold sweat on his forehead, but the pain forbade him to wipe it, so he simply pulled the hood of the anorach better over his head, took a few deep breaths and walked forward. What the hell could he do to warn others?

There was nothing to use... oh bloody hell. Bodie stood in the middle of the road, looking around him, imagining what a driver would and could see in time, arriving to the spot on something like normal speed, in darkness. His head was again hurting like hell, making concentrating extremely difficult, but finally he realised that there was a slight curve with a bush of willow growing on the outer side. If he could get there something to get drivers' attention... but what? He didn't have anything useful with him, and the usually so practical man cursed his own thoughtlessness. Even his precious Swiss Army knife would be of no use... especially as it was in the pocket of the other jacket.

Unless... a thought came to Bodie's head. It might work... but it would make the trip back to the cabin bloody unpleasant to say the least, and Ray would scream off the top of his head. Anyway, the more he thought of it, the more convinced he became that it was the only useful thing to do, as Bodie knew that he most probably wouldn't make it back here again if he would try and fetch something from the house. So the knackered, almost desperate agent braced himself, opened the zipper of his light beige anorach, and in a few minutes a part of the willow-bush started to serve as a makeshift scarecrow.

And in the cozy warmth of flickering flames, Ray fought against the image of snow covering the dark hair.

* * *

Paws were cold and wet. Coat was wet and cold too. Georgie had been distracted by rattling leaves, they had been an irresistible temptation for his curiosity, like the field vole who had peeked out from his shelter right when Georgie had decided to follow again the bleeding one. The vole had disappeared refusing to emerge again, leaving the frustrated kitten's whiskers tremble with annoyance.

The bleeding one had disappeared from Georgie's sight but his nose still caught the faint scent and his ears caught the rattling of pebbles and soft sound of sand farther off along the wide track. So after shaking most of the wet cold from his coat, the tiny tabby confidently hoisted his annoyingly wet and cold tail up and headed along the track towards the small sounds he heard. But his tentative calls were first heard by someone else than his biped mate.

* * *

Bodie's concentration was also broken, by pain. Going back over the mound was being pure hell, and he had been forced to stop already a couple of times to catch his breath and to try and ease the strain in his back. Sand had got inside the pullover from under his chin when he had been resting against the ground, and rubbed against his skin, but at least the thick wool had still managed to keep most of the wetness and the wind away.

Bodie was breathing heavily, the pain in his shoulder and arm was becoming unbearable, and he had to use all his willpower to move his feet again. Thank god, he was getting closer to a boulder, there were a few of them and then the worst would be over.

Suddenly a tiny figure emerged on top of a piece of rock, merrily greeting with his feline hellos the fatigued man who was simply too exhausted to say anything, but had the tabby been a human female, he would have been totally swept off her feet by the delighted, warm grin that spread on the dirty face.

As Georgie noticed that his mate was trying to move towards him, and the ground under his testing paws felt uncomfortably loose, kitten stayed on the rock, calling the biped every now and then, to remind he was being waited for. And as the man got closer, Georgie's enthusiasm grew, and Bodie's smile returned.

When the man finally hoisted himself upright, closing in the boulders, and his eyes were able to see over the big rock where kitten was excitedly stamping about, his grin vanished in a fragment of a second, and in total silence the man launched himself towards the boulder to meet with the fox already charging at the unsuspecting tabby. With one swift movement of his one functioning arm the agent swept the kitten off the rock, and instantly tensed his arm to meet the light-weight predator unable to stop itself in time. And where there had been silence only a blink of an eye earlier, in the next blink there was the sound of fox'es teeth audibly clashing together and its yelp, Bodie's startled curse when colliding hunter's claws met his face and he lost balance, and then almost simultaneously thud of his body against the ground, dull sound of ground starting to move – and Georgie's scream.

* * *

Ray had allowed himself to drift into uneasy slumber. Weird irrational images flickered in his mind. Still, one part of his mind was keeping track of the time and he knew that Bodie was over halfway the one hour he had estimated, yet on some level he decided to stay watching the images as it made the waiting easier.

* * *

Bodie managed to roll aside and stop following the slide caused by his own stumble. Eyes closed he rested for a moment, shaking, his heart racing and pulse throbbing through his head, until Georgie's shrieks forced him to open his eyes and look around him. The kitten was at first nowhere to be seen, but the heart-stopping noise came close, only maybe a couple of yards away and Bodie couldn't leave the kitten, not Georgie... who was certainly hurt and hurt bad, if Bodie could tell anything by the broken long cries.

While waiting for the ground to settle again, Bodie tried to locate the tabby. He soon noticed little movement in the sand on the other side of slide, and realised Georgie was partially buried by sand and a stone, and what he saw was the head. Feeling sick to his stomach and spitting sand away from his mouth, trying to call the kitten softly, Bodie again carefully got upright to see better as Georgie hadn't slid as much down as he had. Luckily the space he had left between the edge and his route had been enough to give him time to get away, and the slide hadn't reached the rocks above him and taken those with it.

But Georgie... oh fuck, if he only would stop crying! Adrenalin, both of the sudden attack, and of the fright the slide and the cat's shrieks caused, was running high, making the man pant and all his senses were heightened, making the wails of the injured animal ring in his ears. Bodie's eyes swept the nearby area looking for signs of the fox, but instead he noticed the staff right on the other side of the boulders. It might be helpful in trying to get Georgie loose, and if he would have to... even the thought made the him feel nausea. So he started to work his way towards and around the pieces of rock, fighting the voice in his head urging to stop those pitiful cries instantly with a piece of stone. Time was not standing still, the wavering shrieks – tenth, eleventh, twelfth... - were measuring it... and finally Bodie was back with the little animal, pushing the other end of the staff through the sand and pebbles to move the piece of rock.

Good thing he had got the staff, it was sturdy and strong, no way would Bodie have been able to lift the stone with one hand only if he didn't have the stick to use as a crowbar. Pushing slowly and steadily, staff against his less injured shoulder, he managed to quickly remove the sand over and around the kitten and release the pinned frontleg of the biting and screaming little creature. "Hey hey hey, Georgie, fella, I'm trying to help you, don't bite so fucking hard... keep still, mate, keep still for God's sake, you only hurt yourself even more... Oooh _bloody hell_... " One look at the leg dangling in an unnatural angle when Bodie picked the hysterical kitten up, told him that the leg was broken, if not even worse. He rested on his knees for a while, gently holding the shaking tiny creature against his pullover. "Well you got yourself into a mess, mate... and what a mess... what the hell am I going to do with you now, chappie?" he whispered to the shivering feline. Oh he knew alright what he should do. He knew. And he knew what he shouldn't have done in the first place. He knew it bloody fucking well. But the pitiful effort of purr that he heard and the move of head against his chest made sure that the certainty was shoved aside. And another certainty took its place. Come hell or fucking high water.

The ex-merc started to work his way towards the boulders once again, inch by inch, hardening himself against any possible fights, bites and screams from his tiny quarry firmly secured in his big right hand he tried to hold against his pullover, fervently hoping it would take the almost non-existent weight of the injured kitten as he needed the other for balancing himself until they could get on the clear road again. "At least you're hell of a lot lighter to carry than Ray" he mumbled, "And William Andrew Philip Bodie, you're officially declared friggin' bloody insane". The man grinned, savagely, and once again shut everything else out of his consciousness but his closest surroundings and his goal. Once more it was only steps, one after another... nothing more complicated than that... short, yeah, careful... steps.

* * *

Three quarters of an hour later, the already wide awake and deadly anxious Ray Doyle got the scare of his life, when jacketless, dirt-covered, bloodstained, wet, and partially snow-covered Bodie practically crashed through the doorway, barely managing to shut the door behind him, and then slowly collapsed on his knees beside Ray's mattress. Yet another shriek of pain escaped from the dirty, wet and rugged Georgie when Bodie placed him into Ray's warmth where he then shivering started to settle down, realising he was safe, with his group.

"Bodie..."

"Give me a minute, Ray. I'll tell you everything. Just give me a minute, I need to know I'm here again." And although that whispered sentence did sound totally incomprehensible, Ray, remembering his own strange dream visions, knew exactly what Bodie meant. So in silence he watched his tough partner lean his back against the box of firewood, move into sitting position and close his eyes, and Ray waited until the blue eyes opened again.

"Bodie, you need to get into dry clothes."

"Later, Ray."

"No, Bodie, now." The glance Bodie gave him was withering. "Save those stares, mate." Ray's voice was silent and cold. "On your feet. Sorry mate, but if you don't do it now, you're not gonna do it today. I need you to lay down to rest, but you're not gonna do that soaking wet. _On. Your. Feet._ Add firewood now as there's still some ember. Wash yourself and tend to those scrapes in your face if you can. Put kettles on and make us a quick meal. Get changed, I'll help you with the pullover. Do what you have to do with me, if you have to and if you're able. Do what you have to do with Georgie, and I help you all I can. And we eat. And we take our pills. And then, you add even more firewood, and you lay down, and you bloody hell _**STAY**_ down until I give you a permission to lift your thick head!" Blazing green eyes softened. "And then, mate, you tell me what happened. Everything. You don't have to talk before, and you don't need to talk after that, you just rest, and I'll let you rest and I keep my mouth shut."

Bodie forced his brain to function, and he realised Ray was right. He would have to move now, while he still could make himself. So he sighed deep and embraced himself, to start the horrifying task of trying to get standing again.


	6. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Finally the last full stop was in its place and Duncan got on his feet to take the paper to Sergeant's desk. He noticed Sergeant Douglas in the room, talking in the phone, and on his way out Duncan heard Cowley being mentioned. For some reason he stayed to wait, and when Sgt Douglas saw him standing by the door, he gave a questioning look and cupped a hand on the speaker.

"Is Mr Cowley in the house, d'you know, Sergeant?" Duncan heard himself asking.

"Saw him taking lift upstairs 'bout an hour ago, might well be" and as Duncan lifted his hand for thanks, Sgt turned his attention back to the phone. He did sound reasonably cool, considering that Rutherford had threatened him with disciplinary actions yesterday. But then again, Sgt had been on the winning side. Good for him.

Duncan stood for a while in the corridor, trying to decide what next. He was starting to feel hungry, so he headed for the cantine in hope of a sandwich and maybe a smile from the new lass behind the counter. At least hers might still be somewhat friendly before she would get to hear the news of his heroic actions yesterday.

The miserable young man mulled over his report over and over again while chewing at his early lunch. Then he decided he might as well go get his jacket and go home and try to sleep some. Or have a beer and then sleep some. Or have two...

So Duncan headed back to his desk to take his jacket. PC Baker was talking on a phone when he entered the room, and started waving a piece of paper at him. Duncan grabbed the paper, and managed to decipher words "Call Muir". So he sat at his desk and in a couple of minutes heard the voice of the old PC. Poor bugger must have been bored to death as he wanted to tell him about some childish issue with a broken bottle of whisky old MacCafferty had found going to check his boat, with a faded piece of paper in it. Some tourist kids must have been playing by the river and both Duncan and the old constable agreed on it. And it was only in the corridor on his way out when the last sentence of the old constable got through Duncan's aching head. "Och those stupid tourists... what a waste of good Glenfiddich". In an instant Duncan was back in the phone, asking what was written in the paper, but it looked like MacCafferty had let the piece fall into the river.

PC Lennox was still far from stopping telling himself he was being even more imbecill than yesterday, when he found himself staring at a pair of startling blue eyes already blazing of fury.

* * *

"What is it, lad? I don't have much patience left for the Aberdeen Police today." CI5 Controller was almost growling. The young pale man standing before him swayed slightly but it might have had more with his obvious previous drinking to do than with anything else. First the ass Rutherford to deal with, at least the MI5 Controller had managed to see reason after hearing report from the Fire Chief, but that Rutherford... and now some hung over young copper wanting to see him for whatever the petty reason. George Cowley only wanted to get his things packed and take the first flight back to London, maybe he would get some sleep in his own bed. Och and he still should arrange Kennedy's treatment, but maybe the hospitals would manage between themselves. Man wouldn't be in condition to transfer any time soon though so there was time.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir" said Duncan after briefly introducing himself. "I... This may be stupid, but..." he cleared his throat.

"At least is sounds promisingly so" growled the old Controller. "Come on, spit it out, I want to leave Aberdeen behind me and the sooner the better."

Duncan swallowed.

"It's these men of yours, sir, agents Bodie and Doyle."

"What about them? Did they cheat you your money or what?" Old man's eyes drilled into the young man. "I heard they left somewhere for a couple of days. They'll be back to fetch Bodie's car and you catch them then."

"Nothing like that, sir. I know where they went, gave them key to me Gramp's... my grandfather's house, sir, they went up close to the Cairngorms. It's only that I'm worried, sir. Worried for them, I mean."

Duncan wasn't quite able to decipher the look that flashed on Controller's face. "Sit down, lad, before you fall down." Duncan did as he was told.

"Any particular reason causing the worry?" The old man had walked to the window. The tone of his voice had changed somehow. It had lost none of the edge or the sharpness, but the anger had gone.

"None other than that I can't reach the house by phone, sir. Line seems to be down. And then, the whisky-bottle." Duncan knew perfectly well how dull and stupid that did sound.

Controller turned to gaze at him again. "You've been drinking last night, lad. After yesterday that's no wonder. Did Bodie and Doyle take a drink before they left or what do you mean?"

"Och, nay, sir, definitely no. I saw them just before they left, sir, took them the key, they had bought whisky, three bottles, saw mr Bodie packing them, but they were totally sober, knew the weather and so. It's only that I can't help thinking something has happened, and if me Gramp's line doesn't work and they can't get out of the house... " Duncan swallowed again. "An old man had found a broken bottle of Glenfiddich in the river which runs by the road taking to Gramp's and it looks like there had been a piece of paper in it but the old fool... I mean -"

"I know what you mean. The old fool", mr Cowley interrupted him. "Fool meaning that the paper is not to be read and the man has managed to lose it, right? And it was Glenfiddich you saw Bodie pack in?"

"Aye, sir."

"Any reports of accidents?"

"Nothing involving Capris, sir, I checked before coming up here."

"You said up to Cairngorms. Locality?"

"Pretty dead, sir. I mean, the house is alright, electricity and all, but closest neighbours in wintertime are about 15 miles away and it's a bit over 20 miles to village from the house. The man who found the bottle had only been checking his place and already left. I spoke with the nearest PC, in Muir, they have no-one to spare to check the house that far away, 3 men in all and I didn't get anyone else from the next station there either. I asked, sir. But I understand that they..." Duncan's voice faded away and the old man nodded.

Duncan swallowed again and mustered his courage to continue. "And I'm in no condition to drive, sir." Mr Cowley saw to his amusement crimson spreading to the pale face. "And even if I was, I don't have a car of my own. And I don't have the money to pay for a taxi almost a hundred miles per direction, me payday is only next week..."

The old Controller coughed. "Let's put a couple of things straight, lad. First: are you still drunk?"

Duncan felt hurt. "Nay, sir, but I wish I were! Wouldn't feel like shite and wouldn't feel meself such an idiot. Sir."

The old Scot hid the smile that almost got to his lips. "Good. That also partially answered my next question: Do you understand how damned ridiculous you sound, PC Lennox, standing there like a walking dead, after operation that wasn't quite... glorious for you, worrying over two of my best men only because they can't be reached by a bloody phone?" That voice was like a butcher's knife.

But Duncan lifted his gaze and looked straight at those cold eyes. "Aye sir, I understand that completely, sir." He was now pale, but his gaze was steady.

"And what do you want from me, Lennox?" it was like a whiplash.

Duncan moistened his lips. He didn't know, hadn't believed he would be listened to even this far. "Well, sir, maybe if you had one of your agents still here, we could go and have a peek?"

"Och that would be a sight, see what would happen if you'd rush there with another agent to fuss around... you'd get done over, lad. My men wouldn't take to that kindly. Besides, I sent everyone home this morning."

There was a knock on the door and the controller looked at his watch. "Och, Sinclair of the Yard. Have to meet him. Run along now lad, and I'd recommend you try to get your head clear and take a pill or two."

Duncan opened his mouth to say something, but as his heart sank, he swallowed and nodded as goodbye. His hand was already on the doorhandle when Controller's voice stopped him.

"And in the meantime, get us a good car with a good radio and likewise good tyres, Granada if one can be found, for me size eight boots, warm socks, anorach and decent gloves, also any other sensible equipment your vivid imagination comes up with. Send my clothing up here in one hour. For you, also decent warm clothing. You meet me in the cantina in precisely 90 minutes, I need to have quick lunch. And be ready to set off _immediately_ after that."

Duncan's jaw dropped for a moment, then he grinned from ear to ear to the old man as relief surged through him. "Aye, running all the way, sir!"

He was out from the door in a flash, missing the "Och good Lord, another one", that was muttered after him.


	7. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The first bit wasn't that hard, Bodie was able to add the firewood on his knees. The warmth of fireplace was so alluring, he only wanted to stay there and be radiated by it, but Doyle, he bloody hell kicked and kept on kicking, without moving any other muscle than those of his damn jaws and tongue. So, swearing, Bodie had hauled himself on his feet again, and had already forgotten why when he finally managed to stand up straight.

"Bathroom, Bodie" he heard the guidance. "Get going, or at least don't fall on me."

Bastard. That man really knew how to piss him off.

"Wash your face and hands, those scrapes look nasty." Ray didn't feel comfortable until he heard running water from the bathroom, and a few loud curses that made him grin despite everything. Soap and scrapes were always an infallible stimulant and stinging scrapes would keep Bodie awake for a moment.

"Kitchen, Bodie..."

A deep breath. Right. Bread. Kettles. Tin. Opener. Bodie's fingers hurt like hell them too, Georgie had done a great job with his spikes, he realised it now as feeling was returning. Tea water. Oh the bloody soup into the kettle. Ham. He had forgotten the damn gloves... What else had he forgotten? It was so hard to think. Ham... Cheese. Veggies. What else?

He leaned heavily on the wall next to the table. Nausea, fatigue and desperation came as a giant dark wave and he gasped for air. This was too much... this fucking bloody hell was too _much_... the dark wave tried to suffocate him, before the constant calls got into his consciousness, someone was calling his name...

* * *

Ray had watched his mate paralyse, lost somewhere. Fear was trying to sneak in, but he tried to keep it at bay and concentrate on his partner and managed finally, hell, finally, get through to him, saw him straighten up and wipe his face. "Bodie, hang on, mate. You can do it." Bodie still refused to turn. "Listen, I know you're hurt. You're tired. Tired beyond belief, I gather. Just hang on for a few minutes more, then you get to rest. I KNOW you can do it." Still no glance.

"Do you?" finally a suffocated reply.

"Yeah, I do. I do know that even if you don't. You got us this far mate, you did all the hard work, you bloody hell did it _already_. Now, we only get you to dry clothes, fix Georgie and eat and you lean back after that, lean back and stop worrying. Oi! There's something boiling over, mate, you'd better have a look."

Coarse curse told Ray that Bodie was back, at least for the time being.

In a few minutes Bodie returned to living-room. "We'll have bread and chicken-soup in a few, and tea is coming too."

Ray was content but forced his partner to start changing his clothes. It was a struggle, but in the end Bodie got to the point where Ray again was holding the pullover and Bodie was wriggling out from it. Ray realised the pain in shoulder must be turly agonizing when the hard-boiled agent let out a pained moan, but Bodie bit his lip and finally got rid of the dirty garment which left sand and dirt all over the mattress and Ray. Gasping and sweating Bodie still couldn't yield to such filthiness but he staggered to find a brush and the dustpan, and he carefully cleaned also the area around shivering, still wet Georgie, and gently dried the little kitten with a towel – of which Ray was very grateful as the tabby had been pressing against him. Georgie shivered even worse than before when Bodie touched him, but he didn't try to get away as Bodie didn't try to move or lift him.

"He's hurt, isn't he?"

Ray saw Bodie wipe his eye and sigh deep. "Yeah... at least his front leg is broken, maybe even crushed. I don't have a clue what the hell I could do about it... I don't know anything about cats..." Frustration and grief tried to overwhelm Bodie.

Ray thought hard. He had a feeling that for his partner this was something far greater, far more important than a question of mere broken bones in some cat. "Well... I guess the basic things still apply. I think he would feel better if the ends of the bones wouldn't move that much, could we try and make some sort of splint? Maybe... well, maybe use some tube or pipe, if there's something here you could split in two or slit open from one side, and tighten it around the leg with some sort of tape? You know, like the straws you talked about? Or something of the sort? It could help him cope until we get him to the vets."

Bodie gave his mate a grateful, shy look. "I'll see what I find in drawers."

Ray stared after his mate. He had seen a tear... a tear on _Bodie's_ face, a tear caused by a hurt _kitten_. What the hell had happened out there? And _who_ was this man?

* * *

It was pain. Agonizing. Ray didn't know which hurt him most, teeth and nails digging into his hands, Georgie's screams and shrieks, or the deadly pale man who tried to control his shaking muscles and hands in desperate effort to stabilize the leg and it's tiny bones with a combination of cotton, thin cardboard from toilet-paper roller and duct tape.

But finally they made it, and shivering, moaning, totally rugged Georgie was gently put again against Ray's side, under cover, and Bodie straightened his shoulders for a moment before probing quickly Ray's abdomen. "You probably cope a couple of hours at least" he said in a husky voice.

"Sure", Ray was confident. "Maybe now we take our pills and eat?"

Bodie nodded. Then he looked at Ray's bleeding fingers and realised that he hadn't heard a word of complaint from his mate, and without a word he again struggled on his feet, tossed more wood in the fire and fetched a little warm water and wiped Ray's hands clean. And yet once again he managed to stand up, and eventually fetch their food and drinks, and they took their pills and ate in total silence.

For once, the tidy soldier simply tossed their plates, glasses and mugs farther off when they had finished, and they tried in vain coax the still shocked kitten to have a morsel of cheese. After their futile efforts Ray took a look at his partner and their gazes met finally. "Why don't you just lie down now, Bodie" Ray said gently. "If you feel like telling what has happened, do so, but I don't mind if you take a nap or something."

Somewhere deep in his tired mind Bodie realised that his generally impatient mate was performing an ultimate effort of self-restraint. Letting his head finally meet the pillow he sighed deep, wondering if he could make himself to let out any intelligible sentences. Ever again.

Halting and hesitating was his story. Very factual and precise, as his reports usually were, but when Bodie came to the point where he had understood what had happened, looking down the bank, he instinctively hunched closer to his partner whose hand took a hold on his wrist, never letting go until Bodie was back in the house.

"You did a good job again, mate. Bloody hell, you really did a good job... " Ray swallowed, stunned as the reality of their situation really had struck him. No wonder Bodie was so totally exhausted. Chrissake...

"I shouldn't have done that, right?" came a sudden, bitter question.

"Done what? Ok I told you no stunts but yeah I know you had to go over to see..."

Bodie interrupted him. "I mean Georgie. I shouldn't have meddled. It was too much a risk. I should have known. I should have priorised."

Ray hesitated before asking "Well... why did you then?"

The dark-haired man was quiet.

Ray thought of all he had seen, heard and felt here. "You did it because he's a mate, right?" Ray felt Bodie nod after a moment of hesitation.

But the sarcasm and bitterness in Bodie's next words hurt Ray deep. "Yeah. Fucking pathetic, eh? Stupid animal. Two stupids there. I know, so you can spare your breath."

Ray wanted to swear, but he managed to swallow it. "No... you did what you should. You couldn't have left him, eh? That's clear. He was under attack, you were there, you acted, that's all. He got hurt, you saved his arse. That's all too. That's what we're trained to do. He's a cat, yeah, but he's become our partner. We're supposed to look after our partners. So what you did was right, under the circumstances."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

Bodie was quiet for a while. "It wasn't his fault... Bloody hell, all he did was to follow me there... he was so happy seeing me come close he didn't pay attention... it wasn't his fault!"

Ray felt his partner tense, so defensively that it hurt. "You did the right thing. If someone has the nerve to say something else, I'll give 'im a whack."

Bodie felt Ray's fingers let go of his wrist... and search his hand. Tight squeeze.

"Now you rest, mate. Come closer if you're too tired to put a shirt on. If you fall asleep, I wake you up in a couple of hours. 'kay?"

" 'kay." Shyly, Bodie moved closer to warmth. Georgie's head peeked out from under the quilt, and settled down again, with a calmer look in his eyes.

Bodie hid his face against his friend's shoulder.


	8. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

88 minutes had passed when panting PC Lennox came again into sight of the CI5 Controller in the cantine and the fact made the older Scot chuckle quietly. Lad had effort, and he had managed to aquire good quality garments. He still looked hung over though. Mr Cowley wasn't that perky himself either, and had tried to have a wise meal to not make himself feel sleepy, so he signalled the young man to bring more coffee to the table. Mr Cowley noticed some sneers pointed at the young copper who got visibly embarassed, and felt a little compassion. He knew from experience that fire was terrifying when it roared and danced around you, and he quickly pushed some of his own memories away.

Instead he raised his voice to the young man closing in the counter. "Oi, Constable, did you get all we need?"

Duncan nodded. "Aye sir!"

"Good lad! Well done. Have a cup for yourself too, my treat." Ach, maybe he was becoming mellow, but at least those bullies would get something to think about. Especially as mr Cowley didn't remember any of those faces from the warehouse. It's always easy to snigger when your own arse has been out of danger.

He quietly observed the young man who finally made it to the table with the coffees. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the lad really, sand-coloured hair neatly cut, open and quite pleasant features, seemingly well built and athletic but in a moderate way. Despite his obvious temporary... weakness, still the lad look strong and agile and hardy.

"You're not a city-boy, Lennox?" Mr Cowley nodded his thanks when the extra cup was passed to him.

"Nay, sir, not really, me parents also had a farm up at Cairngorms, on the eastern side, north of Braemar. We moved into city when I was 16, me Mum got poorly. I like visiting Gramp when I get the change. Got a hang of rock-climbing, great way to keep fit, and there are good cliffs around."

Mr Cowley chuckled. "Aye, cliffs and rocks alright. And what does your grandfather say about your climbing?"

Duncan took a pained look on his face. "Lad, lad, havenae ye got cleaner ways to kill yerself?" They both laughed.

They finished their cups quickly. "Your car should be ready now. Got you a Granada with good tyres, and the lads fixed it a little for you, sir. I also took some other stuff with me, map, ropes and so on."

The lass behind the counter gave Lennox a bag and when Mr Cowley offered to pay for the extra coffees, she put her finger on her lips and winked an eye towards the blushing constable. "A couple of sandwiches, and tea and coffee, as you wanted, PC Lennox."

Duncan explained: "In case you start to feel drowsy while driving, sir. Noticed earlier you were tired."

Mr Cowley raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. Not bad. Not many were able to see through his tested facade. "Well then, off we go."

The Controller looked at the radio quite impressed. It was a very latest model, he only had got one to be tested in CI5. That wasn't from a regular copper car.

"Duncan here" the electrician winked towards the boot where Duncan was making the last check, "he said yer up to Cairngorms, sir, so we figured if yer needin' a talkie, it better be a good one an' this here is our best. If somethin' happens, ye also get to military frequences, they're in the glove box. Tank is full see the lads, oil's been checked, and this here lass got herself a new battery too."

The Controller nodded his approval and quickly checked everything was functioning. "Whose radio is it, by the way?"

The electrician exchanged a startled look with Duncan and coughed. "Ach, sir, never ye mind that... It won't be needed here today anyway."

The Controller sighed, trying to decide whether he should reproach, or thank. He settled with the latter while Duncan finally sat in his seat.

"Everything set?"

Duncan hesitated. "Would you mind stopping by my apartment, sir? It's on our route, and it takes only two minutes. I'd like to grab another piece of equipment. Just in case."

Controller shrugged and the Granada started.


	9. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Ray felt Bodie shiver. "You awake, Bodie?" He heard a silent grunt and felt slight movement. "You're cold. Come closer and cover yourself better, mate. It's ok."

Slowly, as all his muscles and joints were crying, Bodie did as he was told.

"Bodie... I would have hated you if you left Georgie there. Maybe I wouldn't have said anything, but I would have hated you. For a while."

Silence was more than only lack of words.

"Do you hate me often?"

Ray would have wanted to have a deep breath, but his ribs didn't allow him to. "Every once in a while. You're sometimes so... cold. Or... you seem cold. Maybe it's because... you've been supposed to be that way. Not caring."

Bodie only wanted to snuggle into warmth and slide away from all the pain and fear and frustration and worry. "I care." Ray hardly could hear him. "I care 'bout you. Georgie. The Cow. Some girls... Work, sometimes. But it's easier to keep distance. Less painful. To not feel. To not let... touch. Inside. Surface is better."

Ray was stunned and had to stay silent for a while trying to think. "Do you hate me?"

Instant reply: "Never." After a moment: "I get really pissed off with you sometime, but not hate. Ok, with Marikka, for a day or two, but that was all... you can be a real self-righteous berk, bloody hothead and always in trouble, and a soppy do-gooder you're alright... but you're fair. Different. Decent. Nice change compared with..." Bodie's silent voice faded away.

"How's your head and shoulder?"

Grunt. "In place, unfortunately. Back?"

Sigh. "Ditto. Georgie?"

Bodie lifted the cover. "Seems to be settling down a little. Thanks for helping there, mate... your fingers got it bad."

Ray gave a mock sigh. "I told you already, idiot. He's our partner and we're supposed to look after our partners. Even when they bite and claw. Or hit... or call us hotheaded soppy berks."

Slight chuckle. "Or murderous bastards."

Ray felt he was blushing. "Bloody... who told you?"

Louder chuckle. "Your self-righteous cherub face, sunshine. It was written all over you. You may be a great liar otherwise but you've always been lousy in hiding your feelings."

Ray was again stunned. "And you still stayed my partner?"

Sigh. "Didn't have much choice, the old man didn't let me get on me own... told me you'd do me good."

Now it was Ray's turn to chuckle. "Damned old... he said me the same 'bout you when I went to ask..." Again silence. A comfortable one, this time. "The Cow really is a strange one. Dunno what to make of him... even after all this time", Ray finally muttered.

He heard Bodie yawn, painkillers seemed to be knocking the bigger man out again. "Nah, he's alright... He's the best man for that place... he cares too..."

Ray snorted.

"No, I mean it. He cares... 'bout this bloody country. Justice. Safety. And his people... agents. Can't imagine how much it hurts when things go bad... like yesterday... how he handles it... he's tougher than I am... got to be stronger too, I couldn't take all that... All that shit... He cares Ray, and you're blind if you don't see it. Just watch his eyes... No wonder he lets steam out on us..." Another yawn. "The Murderous Bastard requesting permission to snatch more of Perfect Policeman's quilt in order to get the hell out of here for an hour or so..."

"Permission granted" Ray found it hard to say a word. For once he was more than ready to admit his soppyness.

"What?"

"Shut up finally and go to sleep."

"Thought it was something like that. And ditto."

15 minutes later even Georgie's eyes were closed.


	10. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

"_Have a nap, lad_" had the Controller said when they headed out of down. "_Who knows what waits when we get there. I manage a while and wake you up when there's time for coffee_." Duncan hadn't needed another order, as the sound of motor had already started to hypnotize him.

He woke with a startle over an hour later. To his astonishment he realised they had come a lot farther he had anticipated, but a quick peek he stole at the speedo showed that the old man had had a heavy boot.

"You're just the same kind of Sleeping Beauty than Bodie is. He too can fall unconscious anytime anyplace..."

That didn't sound too unfriendly.

"Even when he's sober."

_Ouch_.

"Sir, not that it changes anything, but I dont' usually drink the way I did last night... A pint or two with me mates sometime, that's all. But yesterday... ach, Chrissake... " even the memory made the young man feel nausea.

"Well, maybe you learn to be careful next time. Or if you mean to drink, at least have a good bite before. And stop in time so you are awake for a while before you go to sleep. Seems to take the worst edge away..."

Duncan grimaced. "I passed out in me bed with a bottle of Cutty Sark." That caused an incredulous snort from the indignant driver, and a lecture on the respectful use of the noble Caledonian aqua vitae.

After a while the older man thought to show some mercy towards the crushed young lad, ach, he would have time to learn... "Ever climbed the Ben Avon?"

Sudden change to topic caught the young man off balance and it took a moment before he found his tongue again. "Aye, last summer. Thought to begin m_unro bagging_ and started from there. You been there, Sir?"

He saw a little smile appear on the Controller's face. "Aye, I have... Munro bagging? Hand me some coffee while you tell."

Mr Cowley got a brief and well-constructed lecture on _munro-_ and _marilyn -_peaks of Scotland. "May I ask you sir, how did you find your climb?"

First came a grimace and then a burst of laughter. "Och, the best and the worst... it was the summer after the war..."

Duncan waited quietly, not knowing what he would dare to ask.

"You're not from around here, are you sir? I mean, I could guess you're more from... Glasgow, maybe?"

Mr Cowley gave him an amused side-glance. "I had a friend who was born in Braemar. Met him in the war. I was quite... rugged when we got out of there after some months in a camp and bullet in my leg they didn't dare to operate. When he got the chance he decided to take me here for... recuperation. Fresh air, hikes, _damn_ cold baths, quite a few bonnie lasses offering company... " Smile had returned and Duncan noticed that this time it really had reached the eyes too. "And late that summer he got the idea we would climb Ben Avon. _Easy one_, he said. I thought I was already in good enough condition so I didn't have the sense to say no... We got up there alright, aye, and got even down in one piece, but the next day in the damned inn it took me a good half an hour to get out of the bed... and I told him I'd bloody kill him if he ever got another bright idea again!" Now they both laughed heartily.

"Aye, Ben Avon is not bad if you're used to climbing... anyway you can't imagine how many muscles you have, before they start aching, or joints before you sprain them... when I started climbing, I used to count me cuts and bruises, but stopped sometime after two hundred..." Duncan's confession gave them a new chuckle.

"Yer friend, sir, he still in Scotland?"

Another side glance, a bit wary this time. "Nay, I guess it was the last summer he spent here. He stayed in the army... and in other services. The last years he's been in a wheelchair."

Duncan wanted to bite his tongue. "Och I'm sorry Sir. I didn't mean to pry but looks like me mouth is full of toads today. Wheelchair? That must be awful for anyone who's enjoyed to be out and about."

Mr Cowley nodded and then gave a little smile. "Don't worry, Lennox. It's only good for a copper to be curious." And in his mind George Cowley wondered, how many years... decades it was since he had even mentioned that summer to anyone. Or if ever?

"By the way, Constable, I would appreciate if you didn't try and find my friend's family. There are... reasons."

Controller met a level gaze. "Didn't even cross my mind, sir. I may be too curious but I _do_ understand some things are none of my business." And that mild reproach made Mr Cowley smile inwardly.

* * *

They had continued in relative silence for quite a while when Duncan, who had been peering out from windscreen, suddenly swore.

"Sir, it snows up there. And by the look of those clouds, it snows heavy."

Mr Cowley grunted. "How far to go?"

Answer came instantly. "About 5 from here to Muir and a couple of miles past the village until we take the road up, and 20 miles from that crossing."

"Thank God not more than that. You know the road well?"

Duncan nodded. "Aye. And I took chains for tyres from the car-pool, once we turn from main road I put them on. It doesn't take long. They slow us some but make driving a lot safer."

That made Controller breathe easier. "Good thinking, lad."

Astonished glance. "It _does_ snow up here you know, sir."

Was that another mild reproach? Cheeky lad. "Not that often in London, laddie. Haven't had many chances for snow rallies lately. And haven't missed those either."

Aye the grin was definitely cheeky. "Ach, I'm sure you get the hang of it in no time, sir."

Controller couldn't help wondering what a few weeks with Bodie and Doyle would do to this young man and he threw a warning glance at his passenger. "You'd better believe in your flattery then, young man."

* * *

Thank God young Lennox really knew the road and warned beforehand on tight curves, bumps, parts of the road where wind might have caused the snow form dunes, slopes where you needed to really gather speed to make it up, and downslopes where you'd been in the ditch if you touched the wrong pedal. But not even the young copper knew how to react to the strange sight that met them through the overworking swipers. "What the..." Mr Cowley stopped the car. "Out, young man, and go see what that is." Duncan was already opening his door and stepped in the middle of whirling snow. Cowley's patience wasn't enough to wait for the report though so he grabbed his hat and rushed out before the constable got back. For some reason he had a very cold, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

In seconds he reached pale Duncan, who had already taken the anorach down. "Me Gramp's anorach, sir. Know it from that ripped seam. And these were in the pockets." He handed a pair of gloves to the older man.

"Bodie's gloves... saw these yesterday... He's warning about something." Without a word, the two started to trot along the road.

And without a word the two stood side by side and stared at the vision of a road vanishing, before the young man took a deep breath and let out his true feelings.

"Cuntybuggeryfucktoleybumshite."

And that ultimate Scottish swear word made the older man react. "Exactly."

* * *

But what had happened to the car? Duncan paid attention to the fallen pole and went closer, and Mr Cowley noticed he took a closer look at the end and brushed snow off from it. When he looked back at the approaching Controller, his gaze was very serious. "Sir... I'm afraid they've hit this... there's paint and splinters..."

Carefully, fearing what they might see, they approached the edge and started to scan the slope until their eyes focused on a part of a car's rear in the river, and the few words Duncan heard the older man growl made him move farther off a couple of feet.

Only in seconds the Controller collected himself. "Can you get down there, Lennox?"

"Aye, sir. I just fetch my gear from the car. By the way, I need something solid where to attach the rope. I'd suggest that while I sort out the ropes and harness, you turn the car, there's a widening only a couple of dozen yards back from where it stands, and reverse it here. If this snowing continues it gets harder anyway. I could use the towing hook to fasten the rope alright with you?"

Controller nodded despite the missing _sir_. "Let's get on with it then, lad."

About half an hour later panting and flushed Duncan hauled himself back to the road. "Right... first things first. And the less bad news. There's no-one in that car. Also, there's no luggage, none of the bags I saw. The passenger seat has been removed and taken away too. It must have happened through the boot, as both front doors don't open enough. The car is a fecking wreck, it must have somersaulted as even the roof is partially crushed. Also, it's partially in water. They have to be hurt, both, as even on driver's side there's blood both on the seat and in the inner lining and windscreen. But what worries me most is that removed seat."

Duncan tried to catch his breath. "There's no way they could have climbed this bit, even if they had been uninjured, so whoever it was who brought the anorach and gloves, must have come over the fallen ground. The house is only a few hundred yards away."

Again the Controller nodded. "Well done, lad. I take a map from the car, and you whatever you think you may need and we get going."

Duncan hesitated a bit. "Are you sure you manage, sir?" The look he got was hell of a lot colder than the snow-filled air around him, so Duncan quietly gathered his rope and eased it from the hook, and started to load a big backpack.

* * *

The old bugger was hardy alright. And fit, for his age. When they had managed to pass the mound, he seemed to be mostly hurt by the dirt in his anorach and gloves. Duncan had to admit that he felt probably worse, as the remnants of Cutty Sark – or was it the beer – was trying to get up to his nose, and both his head and heart were hammering.

That didn't escape the blue eyes. "Well, lad, did I manage?"

Duncan sighed, he couldn't take this right now. "Aye, Sir" he mumbled, humiliated.

"Well, maybe I manage also the level road without strokes or heart attacks. Off we go, lad."


	11. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Standing on the snowy stairs before the door, George Cowley had to take a few deep breaths to slow down his racing heart, as he didn't know what sight would be waiting for him. His knock didn't give any result, so he tried the handle, opened the door and stepped in. As his first view was of two men peacefully sleeping, he already opened his mouth to roar at them, but when his gaze focused on the terrible bruise that was the other side of Bodie's head, and what looked like a makeshift support around Doyle's neck, he closed his mouth and walked quietly in the living room, the wondering Duncan behind him.

Their gazes swept the room, seeing the various clothes hanging drying, car-seat dumped in the corner, heaters, dirty dishes on the floor, and the fading fire, to which Mr Cowley immediately added a little more wood. Duncan noticed the missing shelves, and seeing them under Ray's mattress pointed them out to the older man. They also saw the opened boxes of painkiller and dexamethasone, which made again Controller's pulse quicken, and stepping into the otherwise neat kitchen, he recognized the catheter-tube. And although he knew they had been moving around quietly, he also knew that in any normal circumstances both men would have already been wide awake. _Och Lord Almighty, be merciful... don't let me lose these two as well... not these, not now..._

"Duncan?" he whispered. Startled by the use of his first name, the young man tiptoed into kitchen. "I'll start making us all tea and something to eat, and waking up the lads. Can you use the radio?"

Duncan thought for a moment. "Aye, it's not that different from the ones we have, only a lot more efficient."

"Good. The electrician said that there's a list of frequencies in the glove box. Find the closest military base, or any place where you know they have a rescue service. Can you take the co-ordinates for the house from this map?" The Controller handed Duncan the map he had taken with him.

"Aye, Sir, I'm used to maps and this place is easy to locate."

"Good. Introduce yourself with your title, tell about the accident, and tell them that the request comes from the Controller of CI5, me, and that the injured men are two CI5 agents, just to make them prick their ears better, and that I'd appreciate if there was also a doctor on the board as I suspect", a deep sigh "a spinal injury on Doyle, and the way Bodie's head looks like, I am afraid he's got a fractured skull. And tell them everything they want to know about the crash. And DO NOT MOVE from that radio until you get the confirmation they are coming with a helicopter, and then rush back here as fast as you can, so that we can secure a landing-place in time. There's not that many hours of daylight left, especially in this snow."

Duncan, who had already taken the map and a ruler and a pen he had dug out from somewhere, nodded, and was back out from the door in a couple of minutes.

It wasn't the old Scot who started to wake up the lads, but the tiny tabby. Georgie had woken up to the slight noises that carried to his ears from the kitchen, and the little nose who peeked out to sniff, noticed unfamiliar scents. Georgie started to hiss, moan and growl, and that sound woke up not only Ray, but also the attention of the chief. When he noticed Ray's eyes open, he quickly walked next to the mattress and kneeled down.

"Easy, lad... easy." He still whispered. "Constable Lennox is calling help here as we speak. You've hurt your back, right?"

Ray's mouth was dry, and he barely managed to cough out his "Yes" through his astonishment.

The old Scot hushed him silent and tapped gently his shoulder. "Will give you a drink in a moment... but what on earth do you have there?" he gently lifted the cover and caught a peek of a kitten with bared teeth... and with a... _splint_? "Och... goodness... I get you water, we talk after that." And when the back of his anorach vanished inside the kitchen, Ray's eyes were filled with tears again and he was fervently thanking all the powers he could think of.

* * *

Bodie was relentlessly dragged out of his comfy darkness by Ray's hand tugging his arm and voices calling him. Once he finally managed to force his lids open, it took him a while to grasp what he was seeing. "... Sir?"

His chief was just getting on his feet after handing Ray his drink and collecting the dirty dishes. "Finally, Bodie, I was getting worried. No, stay down, stay down lad. Keep yourself warm. You'll get tea and sandwiches in a moment and we'll talk. We're in no hurry at the moment, Lennox is calling for help and will get back here once he manages to get in contact with the rescuers."

Bodie collapsed back to his mattress. He didn't know if he would have managed to get up in the first place, so the order came as a relief. He heard running water from the kitchen and a clatter when his chief rinsed their dishes, and the old Scot soon emerged with a tray. He gave the lads their mugs and sandwiches and then sat unceremoniously onto floor, with his back against the wood-box.

"Sir, how did you get here?" Ray couldn't control his curiosity anymore.

"Well you can thank PC Lennox for that. Maybe he has some Highland seer in his family. He got worried over you, and as he didn't reach you by phone, he eventually came to me. Brave lad, as he still was very hung over and I wasn't even close to my best moods. Anyway, he managed to pass on his worry and we got here. That's enough of that. Looks like you've got things pretty much under control, but now, tell me what happened here."

Bodie sighed. "Ok... I woke up in the car. We had crashed with that bloody fallen pole but I didn't know it by then and couldn't remember. Car was hanging on the edge, and fell and we got into the river. I needed to fiddle a little with Ray to get him back to his senses, and then as he said he didn't feel his legs, I detached the seat to get it off the water as it was fucking... freezing cold. I realised we had to be very close to this house so I followed the river to get here and get help. But the phone was dead, so I searched for something to help us and found the milk-cart or whatever, and ropes and stuff, and went to fetch Ray. I managed to get him and our luggage here and managed to find some medication. Oh and in the morning I went to see what had happened and left the anorach for warning as I had nothing else. That's pretty much it." Both Ray and Mr Cowley listened stunned to what even the old Scot guessed to be understatement of the decade.

"Anything to add, Doyle?"

Without a word Ray pulled away the quilt from his mate, so that their chief saw the horrifying bruises Bodie had. "He resuscitated me in the car for minutes, sir. And also he spent in the river a long time detaching the seat. With that shoulder and all. Then, when he came back with the wheelbarrow, he had to carry the other side of it for quite a while in the river, before he got to pulling. With my weight and all the extra. Then he dragged me in here, and managed to move me from the seat to this mattress, and get the wet clothes off. And use the catheter. And make food. And find more firewood this morning. And get over that fucking piece of fallen ground to warn others." There was a meow under the quilt and Georgie showed his nose. "Oh yeah, and on his way back, save the kitty from a fox and fix his leg."

Embarrassed Bodie managed to snatch the cover back and he curled under it.

"Och... " It was a rare occasion that George Cowley was at loss of words for more than a second.

"Yeah. And even that wasn't all. He figured out how to use seatbelts to secure me into my seat and things like that."

Only now Bodie opened his mouth. "Ray helped. He used his head too although the back must have given him hell's agony. Figured out how to move him from the seat to the mattress, and kept me going when I almost... gave up with everything."

The tabby, who was now confident the newcomer wasn't a threat, pushed his head farther off from under the quilt and mr Cowley saw Bodie smile. "Yeah, mate... and you helped us both. To have some sort of hold onto our sanity."

Ray's eyes turned to their chief. "Sir, could you see to it that Georgie also gets treatment?"

Mr Cowley blinked a couple of times. "_What_ did you say his name was?" and colour started to spread on the faces of the two agents.

"Georgie... _Bodie's_ idea!"

The said culprit was already pure crimson under his bruises. "Well it felt so fitting, and it's a good name, isn't it?"

Mr Cowley's voice was very soft. "And pray, tell me how it felt such a fitting name?"

Bodie coughed. "Because... because he's small, ginger and hardy. And street-wise. And brave. Sir."

"And fights and bites like a devil."

"Shut up Ray..."

There was a long silence which was finally ended by muffled chuckles that broke into hearty laughter, and after a moment the lads dared to join in.

"Och, it was a good thing you added that last bit, Doyle." Mr Cowley was still chuckling and wiping his eyes. "The two of you... There are times when I don't know whether you are a blessing or a curse for CI5. Or for me and my nerves... All right I promise he'll be looked after and cared for. But joking aside. What kind of injuries are we talking about here? I already guess that there's a spinal injury to Doyle's back."

All traces of merriness vanished. "That's right, sir. There's a bit of feeling and reactions left, though, so I'd guess there's nothing totally irrevocable if he gets into a good hospital quickly. Also, he's got at least three broken ribs, but they don't seem to be that bad. Maybe something in the neck too but that I managed to stabilize already in the car. Bump into head but it's minor. Some small bruises."

Mr Cowley looked at Ray's hands. "What are those scrapes and wounds?"

Ray grimaced. "Your namesake, sir. He wasn't very co-operative when Bodie tried to make the splint for his front leg a few hours ago. It's broken." Mr Cowley sighed.

"We'll pay for his treatment, sir", Bodie said quickly. "He has to be treated. Whatever it is that they need to do to him."

Mr Cowley looked at him. "And what about you then, Bodie?"

Before Bodie got his mouth open again Ray hurried in between. "His skull, sir. It has to be checked thoroughly because I think there may be fractures." Ray didn't miss the ugly glance Bodie gave him. "Save those stares, mate. I noticed already in the evening you flinched every time I touched even that side of your head. You hit it worse you want to let out. And your thoughts tarry and you're clumsier than usually."

Bodie muttered something that probably was a curse.

"And that shoulder, Bodie?" Mr Cowley's voice was quiet.

"It didn't feel broken at first... but now I can't use that hand almost at all, and my fingers aren't working properly either. Other than that, just bruising. And... "

"Exhaustion and fatigue", mr Cowley completed the sentence without hesitation, watching his top agent barely be able to lift his head. "Aye, lads... looks like I lost a lot more on this assignment than I bargained for. But thank the Lord at least the two of you are going to live to see another day. Whether you'll be fit for the streets, well, that's something that remains to be seen." He rose slowly to his feet.

"Finish your teas and sandwiches now in all peace and quiet, lads. Is there anything that should be done or be seen to right now that I could help with?"

Ray and Bodie exchanged a glance. "Well, there's Georgie... could you please offer him a some food and water?"

The two-legged namesake shook his head but with a little smile, and went to kitchen without further comments. He soon spotted Georgie's dishes and the tin, and returned to the living room. "Now, let me see my namesake properly." He added more firewood as Ray pulled down his quilt to expose the little feline, and then kneeled beside the mattress. "Ach... he's small alright. No more than 8 weeks, I would say, probably even less. Let's see... " and to the astonishment of both agents he gently took the kitten inside a little towel, and lifted him on his side of Ray. "Come now, little lad... nothing to worry about... yes I know you hurt... will leave your leg alone, just feeling about you a bit... let's see your mouth... 6, 7 weeks maybe... a little dehydrated... you've done quite a good job with the leg, Bodie... aye... no more probing, laddie, just a bit of cuddling and stroking, eh? Juuust a little bit of cuddling and stroking..." Finally the Scot noticed the stunned eyes of his agents. "What? I like cats. I used to have them before CI5 when my job only allowed. Can he already drink by himself?"

Ray was the first to get a word out of his mouth. "No sir, not from the bowl but he licks water from fingertip. Bodie taught him that. But he eats alright."

The thought of Bodie offering water from his fingertips made the Scot chuckle. Aye this kitten must be something special. "He probably hurts too much to have appetite, and is too scared of me, but maybe he'd take some water..." For the next good 15 minutes the agents followed fascinated how their feared chief coaxed the little kitten to drink and eat.

* * *

Just as he had tucked the tabby back against Ray's side, the front door opened and the out of breath constable emerged brushing snow from his hair. "Finally, Sir! E.t.a. in about two hours, they're on rescue-flights even now but will get here as soon as they can. Thank god the wind isn't too bad, they can follow the river and the valley despite the snowing and the dusk. Oh hello, you're all awake now. Anything I can do here, Sir?"

Mr Cowley nodded. "Take a bite and a cuppa from the kitchen, or make coffee if you fancy, and sit down for a moment. We'll have time to mark the landing after that." In a few minutes also Duncan had parked his bottom on the solid floor of his grandfather's house.

"Guess we should thank you then, Lennox. Mr Cowley told us you sounded the alarm." Agent Doyle gave Duncan a little smile.

"Well... aye, I got worried when I couldn't reach you by phone. Mr Bodie, did you throw one of your bottles to the river?"

Bodie nodded after a moment. "Did someone find it?"

Duncan sipped his drink. "Thank you sir, very good tea. Aye, one of the old farts... farmers from downriver had been at his place last night and had said in the village he'd found a bottle with a piece of paper in it this morning. I talked with the local PC this morning when I tried to find out if something had happened. He had dropped and lost the paper though, but as they said it was Glenfiddich, I went to see Mr Cowley."

Bodie grimaced. "Oh don't tell me there was someone home nearby..."

Duncan shook his head. "Nay, a few miles away. Besides if you had by some miracle made it there, that old bat wouldn't have dared to let you in anyway. He lets nobody in. Suspicious old bugger he is."

Bodie sighed. "Anyway, thanks Lennox. And thank your grandfather too. We owe him a lot. Sorry for the mess though."

Duncan grinned. "That's something I fix in five minutes so never you mind that, mr Bodie. And Gramp, he wants to keep things running smooth and always wants to be prepared. Good thing it helped you too, he'll be happy to know."

After that the two agents talked with their boss about yesterday's operation and the results, and about the hurt agent. Duncan, while sipping his tea, wondered how they could all three be so laid-back and calm, as if there was nothing to worry about, although if mr Cowley's first assessment was correct, both agents were seriously injured. Okay, he knew they had taken Gramp's pills which were quite hard stuff, but still. But, thinking about it, what could they do about things anyway? What would fretting help? Maybe they simply were sparing their energy, and by God, thinking that agent Bodie had managed to drag his partner with the seat from the car, and today manage to climb to leave the warning, and all that they must have gone through, they both certainly had to be really worn out.

Bodie tried to get up. Mr Cowley looked worried. "You'd better stay down, lad."

Bodie grimaced. "Just need the bathroom... dammit..."

Duncan was already on his feet. "Wait, mr Bodie. I'll give you a hand." When he saw the bruised shoulder he instantly half-kneeled behind Bodie and put his arm under the man and lifted. Bodie was so stunned that he didn't have time to say anything before he was already on his knees, and with one smooth movement Duncan had got him standing. "Fer goodness' sake, mr Bodie, the muscles in this other shoulder can't be much better. You've burned it with a rope, have ye? It looks like that." Duncan had noticed the other bruise.

"Yeah he did that dragging me from the car yesterday" said Ray.

"Aye mr Cowley, the constable in Muir called yer lot supermen, now I can tell him they certainly are that. Mr Bodie, mind your step, I once got my neck so bruised and jammed I felt I couldn't even walk straight for days..." And one of the supermen let himself be escorted towards the door of the bathroom without complaints.

"How did he do that?", whispered Ray. "Bodie didn't say a word to oppose! He would have lashed me if I had tried to walk him that way."

Mr Cowley hemmed. "I've noticed young Lennox has a special way with people. And he looks very strong indeed." Controller made a mental note that he should have a look at this young PC's file.

"Sir..." Ray's voice was quiet. "What if I don't make it back on my feet?"

Mr Cowley had already wondered the same. "Now, Doyle, I don't have an answer for that. I wish I had but I don't. But we'll see what future brings. You already made it back after that woman shot you. All we can do is to hope and pray you do it again, and also work for it to succeed. All I can promise is that I do what I can on my end too. How are things between you and Bodie?" Controller's voice was quiet too.

"He blamed himself... 'bout the crash." Mr Cowley had already guessed that. "We talked about it last night. And about other things. I don't blame him. It simply was an accident. And I think we've... sorted things out between us. We're friends."

That was the first time the Controller heard one of the duo to use that word about the other. And somehow it did sound a very big word indeed. But it confirmed the feeling of... peace between the two he had sensed. As if something had finally settled into its place. Something he had waited for years. But had it happened too late?


	12. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Bodie and Duncan returned. "What do you say, sir, if I we start helping these gentlemen into more clothes? It would save time when the medics come." Duncan helped Bodie sit down in an armchair. "And we still have time after that to mark the landing for the chopper with fires and lanterns. The field by the house should be hard and level enough to take the bird and the snow isn't too deep."

Mr Cowley nodded. "Bodie, you stay where you are. Where are your and Doyle's clothes?"

In no time they had managed to help Bodie into a vest and a pullover, but when they meant to start dressing Ray, Bodie suddenly told them to halt. "Ah, sir, if you don't mind, you might now go mark the landing with the constable here, and return for Ray's clothes after you've finished with that."

Mr Cowley frowned. "Why so, Bodie?"

Bodie coughed and gave Ray an embarrassed glance. "Well, it occurred to me that it's been several hours since Ray has... er... taken a leak, sir, and if it still takes a couple of hours..."

Ray blinked from his mattress. "Not even my egocentrism needs audience there."

Mr Cowley immediately raised his hand. "Och, all right, I understand. You manage, Bodie?"

His agent tried to nod. "I hope so, sir. I give a shout if I we need help here."

Their chief winked at Duncan. "All right, lad, let's go and see what we can do so that the pilots find us if gets dark." The young lad was already bouncing to the door with the oil-lamps, chatting merrily about his suggestions.

When mr Cowley was shutting the door behind him he heard Doyle say with longing: "Bodie, have we _ever_ been that young?"

A good question.

* * *

Young Lennox was a practically thinking man, it was easy to see he hadn't been born into townfolk. He asked the right questions about what the chopper would need for landing, and in minutes had picked up an area where there should not be surprises for the pilots. Then he fetched loads of firewood so that they were able to make small pyres to mark the landing-area. It was still snowing but not so much that it bothered the fire once they got it burning. And there was enough of wood to keep the fires alive for hours if need be.

"Can I ask you something, sir?" The Scot was lighting the second pyre and nodded. "These two agents... how come they take the situation so calmly? I mean, most lads I know would be close to hysterics, or at each other's throats..."

Mr Cowley sighed. "Those two... they have been through a lot in their lives already. Also as partners. They know how serious this is alright, but it looks like they have already gone through the worst between themselves. You see, they have been teamed for years already. Chalk and cheese, I used to call them. Very different men when it comes to their backgrounds and personalities... but they were welded together by their work. And although there are times they really get up my nose, they are my top brace. Very hard and hardy men, ruthless when need be, violent when need be... but also intelligent, perceptive, even adaptable. And as a team, always complementing each other. What one maybe misses, the other one catches."

Duncan listened in silence and they moved to build the third pyre. "Are they both coppers? Mr Bodie gives more an impression of... military. Or not the kind of regular military, if you get my meaning, more like... well, hired one."

Mr Cowley was stunned. "What makes you think that?", he was really intrigued.

"Well... the way he talks, one thing. And another, that he's fit. I mean, he's built the way which tells he's really _used_ his muscles seriously. He's bulky, I mean, with strong muscles of the kind which don't come in a year or two but rather in a decade or two I could imagine. Most coppers simply keep fit, but not that way. And yeah, most coppers don't get that amount of scars during all their lives, than I saw on him. And some of those haven't healed neatly, I mean, I couldn't imagine such in the army with good medics... And the way he has used his head, that's really impressive. Can't imagine any of the lads in Aberdeen be able to think that way, so practically..." Duncan shook his head in awe.

"What do you make out of Doyle then?" Mr Cowley was curious.

"Oh he's a copper all right. That's clear. The way he talked with you about yesterday, and everything. He was the one with the 'why's' where as mr Bodie was more like 'how' and 'what then'."

That was quite an accurate characterization, mr Cowley had to admit. He enjoyed listening to this lad.

"He's been terribly hurt though, mr Doyle. The scars in his chest?"

The older Scot nodded. "Aye, he was shot very bad a couple of years ago. He made it back to the duty nevertheless." The third pyre took fire.

"Tough cookies, both men, right?"

Mr Cowley nodded. "Aye, and in more ways than one."

They moved to build the last one. "How long will the CI5 agents stay in field service, Sir? I mean, for example mr Bodie and mr Doyle, they must now be closer to their 40s although they do look younger."

Mr Cowley coughed. "Well there's no set age for as long as they are fit enough. And how do you know they're that age if they look younger?"

Duncan wiped his nose. "Hard to say... small things. Eyes. And a sense of... maturity. Kind of. Experience. It's hard to define."

_And from where comes your experience in perception and reading people, laddie_? Mr Cowley wondered. But as the fourth pyre took fire also, all he said was "Let's get back inside, lad."

* * *

Bodie had managed to get up from the armchair. "Sorry mate, thought this would be the last time for a while when we get a chance to speak in private."

Ray smiled. "I thought the same."

Bodie went to fetch the catheter and water and canister and returned soon. "Thank god they came, though. I'm... not feeling well."

Ray frowned. "I knew that. Yeah, thank god they came. But Bodie... there's something I want to say." He swallowed. "I mean, I don't want you to resign even if I don't make it back to the squad. We can still remain mates anyway. And I want us to remain mates... friends. But the old man needs you there. It is too much if he loses four agents in one blow. It's not easy for him to find good enough people to replace that many... " Bodie was surprised by this unexpected show of loyalty. "Besides, working would keep you out of mischief."

Bodie chuckled. "I knew you had something in mind. I'll think about it. I promise."

It was hard to focus to place the tube. "Sorry mate..." Ray tried to suppress his groan. "Ray, I've been thinking about what you said... about hating me. I wish you wouldn't need to do that. In the future, I mean. I can't change much, maybe... but I just would like you to know I'm not that bad. In reality, I mean."

Ray nudged him. "Hey, berk, I've seen that already. You can be quite normal if you decide to. I just wish you wouldn't act so flamin' macho at times."

Bodie frowned at him. "Look who's talking."

Ray swallowed. "Yeah, mate, I'm sorry. I know... I know I can be a jerk too."

That made Bodie chuckle. "_Too_, he says."

Ray grinned sheepishly before going serious again. "Bodie... whatever I've said about you before and whatever I'll say after... I know you're the only man who could have done all you did. And the only man who could have taken me through this. And there's no way I can ever thank you enough for everything."

To his surprise, Bodie didn't see a hint of soppyness in those green eyes. Just a plain, solid, honest gaze.

"I'll probably be just the same arse once my back stops hurting, or even if it doesn't. But if ever I could say I love a man, you'd be the one I would say it about."

Bodie's eyes widened.

But still Ray held his gaze steady. "Oh come on, Bodie... not that way. You can keep your birds alright, and I'll keep mine. But if ever I need to choose between a cozy evening with someone under my arm, and getting out into rain to save your hide, I wouldn't even need to think twice. Probably." Then he chuckled. "Hell, so no changes there."

That made Bodie snort at first and after a moment they both were shaking helplessly with laughter. And even when mr Cowley and Duncan entered the house again, Bodie was still wiping tears from his face after he'd finished tending his partner.

"Everything alright here?"

Bodie was covering Ray and Georgie again. "Never better, Sir" came from two mouths. And the two Scots looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

* * *

After the Scots had managed to slide, pull and tug jeans, a vest, and one of Duncan's Gramp's thick cardigans on Doyle, Duncan started to tidy up so that they would be ready to leave when the chopper came and he cleaned the fireplace carrying the embers out into the snow, the house was still warm and the electric heaters were still in place. They did have time to sit down for chat though, and seeing Georgie made the curious constable gently interrogate the agents about all that had happened and the two soon realised they had been lured to talk more they ever intended to.

Finally the young man let out what was pressing his chest. "Mr Bodie, mr Doyle, I really blame meself for this. That you needed to come save my arse, and now this."

Bodie grimaced. "Yours wasn't the only arse there to save, remember? Panic is contagious. And that place was a bloody hellhole to begin with. We've been to tough places before, had some experience. And we're used to work as a team. All of us in CI5. Live and learn, boy. Just don't imitate Ray's guilty-trips. And forget those bloody misters. I'm just Bodie."

Ray continued. "Yeah. Can't really blame you for the land-slide either. Besides someone else would have died in our place. And it's been one of those live-and-learns for us too. You've pretty much saved _our_ arses now so I think we've even. I'm Ray. But our boss, he's still _Mister_ Cowley. You'd better remember that."

Duncan grinned. "Aye, that's somehow easy to remember even for a blockhead like me. And thank you, agents. You can't even begin to know what a bloody cliff you took off me chest." He got back on his feet. "Think I'll go out to listen for a while, sir. They shouldn't be long now." He disappeared out into dusk with a lantern.

Men inside were quiet for a while. "Not bad, that Duncan. He might turn out pretty good, actually. Strong. Not dum either. Kind of... pleasant. Young though." Bodie looked thoughtful. "If he was a bit more experienced, I'd say worth considering a recruit."

Ray agreed. "Yeah, we could definitely use his talent in chatting up people. You know more about him, sir?"

Controller hemmed. "Should have a look at his file. He's very perceptive also. But so very young."

Doyle frowned. "Is that necessarily a bad thing? Less stuck in habits and mannerisms, easier to mould. More adaptable."

His chief looked at him. "And how would you like to mould him, Doyle?"

The agent hesitated. "Well... Hard to say. Kind of like him as he is."

Bodie nodded a little. "Got your point, sir. He might not stay that nice for long with us if he's not resilient enough. But I wouldn't mind seeing him at the HQ some day."

Mr Cowley gave his agents a thoughtful look. He would have many things to think about. But his ponderings came to an abrupt end when the front door opened.

"Oi, they're coming!"

The sound of rotors made Bodie close his eyes.


	13. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

The doctor who arrived with the rescuers, examined Ray and took careful notes on the symptoms and medication and doses and times when the medicines had been taken, and also interrogated drowsy Bodie about everything that had happened in the car, and how he had treated and handled Ray there, and how he had moved his mate out and into the house. All men listened wide-eyed, even the rescuers.

They replaced the makeshift collar with a proper one, quickly lifted Ray onto the stretcher, and covered him against cold, while Duncan and mr Cowley searched a suitable box for Georgie and packed him into a backpack as both Duncan and the Controller thought it would be better if the Controller followed the agents, and the PC took the car back, and the doctor, grudgingly though, also agreed Duncan was in driving condition. Duncan's first priority would be to find a decent clinic for Georgie and then come to meet the Controller in the hospital as it was clear that both men would need to stay in.

"Which hospital will you take them in, doctor?"

The doctor had already moved to examine Bodie. "Royal, it has the best facilities for these two. Aberdeen is a good place, and Royal the best there with a possibility to have a MRI-scan too."

Duncan took his leave and set off with a lamp and the protesting kitten, and they agreed the chopper would check the car was off.

"Oi, boys, bring a stretcher also for this man." The men carrying Doyle were starting off.

Bodie was stunned. "I need no bloody stretcher, Doc."

The medic was adamant. "You'd better lie down in case you start to feel dizzy. I suspect you may have an intracranial haemorrhage, and if that is the case, you may have also clotting. Better safe than sorry, mr Bodie."

The Controller was startled. "If that is the case, doctor, how serious is it?"

The doctor shrugged. "If that _is_ the case, he'll need an operation to make the bleeding stop if it's still continuing, and to remove the clotted blood as the mere pressure in his brain may cause him problems, make him lose consciousness, cause headaches, problems with vision and so forth, depending on its location and how large the damaged area is, and how heavy the bleeding. If he only had had an ordinary concussion, in my experience he should already be feeling better than yesterday, but it looks like the only changes have been to slightly worse. Of course the operation does have its risks, but greater risk is to leave it, if there really is bleeding or clotting. I'm not a specialist but anyway, considering the field service if these are policemen, if things go in the usual way, it's his shoulder which most probably will keep him longer away from the field than the head."

Controller's face was grim but he nodded. "I trust he'll get best possible treatment. Doyle then?"

The doctor hemmed. "Hard to tell as only X-rays and scan will tell what is the real nature of the injury, but your man gave him the correct treatment in these circumstances, and that dexamethasone along with indometacin was a great first aid, especially as he had the sense to give a heavier dose. The injury itself can be anything from a slipped disc to one or two broken vertebrae, but as there is some feeling left, I won't say it's totally hopeless. Anyway, everyone will be wiser once they have been thoroughly examined in the hospital. Most probably he will need an operation too, but whether it has to be done immediately, or if he can be moved to London for it, that remains to be seen too." The doctor looked at the men. "Don't worry, Royal in Aberdeen has great neurosurgeons. Pretty much the best place in Scotland as far as I know."

Men came to fetch Bodie. "We could take their belongings with us, as it looks like we're pretty much done in here."

The Controller nodded, checked the kitchen and switched off the lights, and locked the door after the rescuers. He took a deep breath and followed his men into the helicopter. Now the fear for his men was really trying to overcome him.

The Granada had vanished, so the helicopter headed for the easiest route towards Aberdeen. Both agents were quiet and seemed nervous.

"Sir?" It was Bodie. "You do take care of Georgie, won't you?"

Ray also was watching him anxiously. "We like that little fella."

Bodie swallowed. "And it was my bloody fault he got injured."

Ray frowned. "No it wasn't and don't be stupid. If it wasn't for you the bloody fox would have got him."

Bodie still looked miserable. "Yeah it was. He followed me there, didn't he? And didn't notice the fox because he was so busy greeting and calling me on that block..." Bodie turned his head away.

Their chief, who had been keenly monitoring his men, suspected that somehow that kitten was also a kind of symbol of the injuries the lads themselves were facing and of their future – what ever else he might also be and mean to those two now. He would need to have good talks with both men later as Bodie's behaviour was somewhat perplexing. "Now lads, I told you already he'll be taken care of. Lennox is to take him to some good clinic. And we will arrange his treatment and its payment some way. Not from the CI5 budget though. Ach, that kitten reminds me of a ginger cat that wandered to the barracks when I was stationed to Berlin after the war, of course keeping pets was strictly forbidden so we taught him to use a small ventilation shaft to get into the officers' mess and hide in if need be, and arranged him a closet to sleep in and so forth, until a year later we learned that where he always disappeared to was the bloody commandant's apartment..."

That made a corporal sitting beside him start telling a story of the cat he had as a kid, and when the order came to prepare for the landing, feline and canine Münchhausens had conquered the British Isles. But the two agents fell silent again.


	14. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Both men had been taken in, Doyle who already had been given morphine by the doctor, to be X-rayed first, and Bodie to CT-scan, very professional-looking teams had been waiting for them as the doctor had contacted the hospital in good time before they landed. The old Scot was pacing around the room, thankful for some true development in these modern times, like the helicopters, yet still anxious. The men had been in for what felt like an eternity, and the Controller tried to convince himself that it was only a sign of thorough examinations. It was already evening and for once he wondered for how long he still could take this. All this. How long he could stay unattached. Uninvolved. How long he would be counting his losses instead of blessings.

He knew he should sit down and rest, as his body started to feel the toll of the long night and the long day. But he feared that the rest would only invite the true weariness lurking inside of him, and he couldn't afford that. Not yet.

A nurse popped in to ask if he would like to have a cup of tea, but the mere thought made him feel sick. No more tea or coffee today. Instead he asked where he could find fresh water, as he strongly suspected malt would be out of question. The latter part of the question made the nurse first frown, then smile, and soon he got to swallow fresh cool water.

And he waited.

Finally a doctor came in and greeted him curtly. One of those who had been waiting for them... Hammond?

"All right, mr Cowley. Both men have now been examined what comes to their major injuries and I am not sure whether they have had enormously bad or enormously good luck. I can't for the life of me understand how Mr Bodie has in his own condition been able to move Mr Doyle and still keep him relatively stable and immobile. But the fact remains that both men need specialist treatment. Now, we have given Mr Doyle dexamethasone as injections to his spine as well as pain-medication, and as we have another patient waiting to be moved to London also this evening, I suggest Mr Doyle will be transferred simultaneously. He has a fractured lumbar vertebrae which has caused two discs to dislocate. Thanks to your man's quick thinking, the dexamethasone had already started to have some effect in subduing the swelling, and as it seems, there really is some feeling and even function left in his legs. The other patient will be transferred in... ah, one hour, from here to the airport, and there is room for another one and they are willing to take Mr Doyle in that plane also, and if we have your, and m Doyle's permission, he'll be moved to the National Hospital for Neurology and Neurosurgery in London and they are ready to operate on him already tonight. They have better facilities there for spinal operations than we have at the moment. As for mr Bodie, I want him on the operating table as soon as possible, my colleagues hunch on the haemorrhage was correct and the sooner we get to reduce the pressure, the better. But he wants to have a word with you before that."

Mr Cowley frowned. "Can't he be moved to London also?"

The neurosurgeon shook his head vigorously. "Absolutely no flying for him, higher altitudes and changes in pressure might prove disastrous. We'll operate him here, and I assure you my team is excellent. But maybe it's best that you come to talk with them now so that we get things rolling on. They should both be in the same room at the moment, follow me..."

* * *

The doctor showed him in and said he'd join them in a couple of minutes. The two had IV's attached to them, Doyle was still wearing the support around his neck and a part of Bodie's hair had already been clipped . "Well lads, Dr Hammond has updated me. Doyle, he wants you to get transferred to London, he says they have a better facility there and they have a chance to fly you there shortly. I have nothing against it but they need your own consent. Your back would be operated there during the night, the slipped discs that you have."

Bodie turned his head. "And bloody hell you go there, mate. If that's a better place for your treatment then you go there."

Doyle tried to look at him. "Yeah but..."

Bodie grunted. "No buts. You go. End of discussion. I come to meet you there then."

Doyle's eyes turned to his chief again. "Did he say anything about... you know, prospects?" His eyes were pleading.

"I'm sorry lad, he didn't say anything about it. But looks like Bodie had managed to treat you perfectly considering the circumstances, and the doctor confirmed that you do have some sort of function left in your legs, and didn't look hopeless at all. But is it clear now that you'll be flown to London?"

Ray hesitated and tried again to look at Bodie who gave him as stern a glance as his medication allowed.

"Guess so, then. All right."

The neurosurgeon stepped in.

"Ach, Dr Hammond, Doyle agrees to the transfer."

Hammond looked at Ray who confirmed. "Good!" He peeked out from the door. "Nurse Shannon! Start preparations for mr Doyle's transfer, he has to be ready at the doors in 45 minutes." A quiet voice replied _Aye_ and Hammond said he'd go immediately to phone the hospital and he vanished again.

"Will you escort Ray to the hospital, sir?"

Doyle snorted. "Good lord Bodie, I don't need an escort there." He seemed remarkably calm, to be Doyle. "There will be people in that plane as it is and they probably plan to knock me out pretty soon after I get there, and maybe don't plan to wake me up for quite a few hours anyway. And most probably I won't be in the mood in seeing anyone for a couple of days after that." He looked at his chief. "Could you just make sure my things are safe? I don't need them with me there anyway."

Mr Cowley nodded. "Aye, will do, lad. You seem to take all of this in your stride."

Doyle shut his eyes for a moment. "Nah I think they doped me up to my eyeballs after those fucking injections... at least it's so hard to think straight and everything is kind of floating. But no use fretting, right? I think I did enough of that last night already. Just one thing, sir... I'd like to know how... how Bodie does. After they have operated him."

The Scot agreed. "Aye, that will be arranged. Are there any others the two of you want to keep informed about your condition?"

There was silence.

Silence which pained the old Scot.

"All right then... Bodie, the doctor said you wanted to have a word."

Bodie looked like he would pass out any minute but he struggled to focus. "Yeah... I'd also like to know how Ray does. And... the Capri. It's being fixed... Dunno how long they keep me here... And our ammo... We left it to Jax... and yeah, Georgie."

There was a knock on the door and the head of the young PC peeked in. "Am I disturbing you, sir? They said that the agents are here."

Bodie's head turned immediately. "Come in, Duncan. Georgie?"

The PC stepped in. "At the vets, they started to give him fluids and put him in a cozy little cage to have a rest until tomorrow. They'll have a better look on his leg in the morning but at the moment he's doing ok. Even if he screamed at me three quarters of an hour in the car, and bit me every time I put my finger in the box. Feisty little chap. I told him I'll put him under arrest but he has no respect for police. Anyways, the vet said they'll take good care of him. Seemed to be a good place, they even have X-ray there, and I phone them in the morning so you'll get to know what's going on. I told them kitty was injured during a police-operation, maybe they give discount. Or then, they double the price." Duncan winked an eye and managed to get the lads smile. "Right, I think that covers the essential, I leave from disturbing you. Ray, Bodie, great to see you're being well looked after now. I'm keeping my fingers crossed everything goes fine from now on. Sir, I will ask if they hand me mr Doyle's luggage, I could take it into the car already as there's too much of it for the hospital. I wait for you in the corridor after that for further instructions. Is that all right with you, sir?" The Controller nodded and the constable said goodbye to the two agents, shaking their hands.

Bodie looked after him. "Nice lad." He opened his mouth to say something, but then mumbled "I forgot... my head aches."

Mr Cowley and Ray exchanged a worried look. "Time they knock you out, Bodie. We talk later." Mr Cowley walked to the door and called a nurse, and only a couple of minutes later Dr Hammond was giving orders of sedation.

"See you later, mate."

Bodie tried to grin. "See you, Ray. Take care and leave a nurse or two for me, hey?"

A group of nurses came to prepare Ray for his move too and the Controller thought it would be best if he would get out from their way. "Now, lads, I leave you to be taken care of. Don't worry about anything, just let these people do their jobs and everything will turn out just fine. Doyle, I will phone your hospital tomorrow and will keep you posted about Bodie and the kitten. Be good lads now, both of you." He patted shoulders of both and Bodie let his eyes shut.

"Doctor?" Dr Hammond came closer. "How long do you expect the operation take?"

The doctor shrugged. "Hard to tell, it depends on what we find there. A few hours. You can leave a number we can call, or then call in the morning." The Controller nodded and left the room.

Duncan was nowhere to be seen, so the Scot sat down on a chair and watched both of his men being in their turns pushed along the corridor. He felt empty, knowing that there was absolutely nothing he could do for the two of them, nothing... only to trust the doctors.

And to hope and pray.

* * *

He was deep in his thoughts when PC Lennox returned. "Hello, sir. Are they being treated now?"

The Controller sighed. "Doyle is being transported to London, he will be operated there tonight. A fractured vertebra and two slipped discs... at least. And Bodie has the haemorrhage, they took him to the theatre now. He started to get worse, I guess."

Duncan sat down. "Och for heaven's sake..." He stole a peek at the older man who was rubbing his eyes, stood up again and went to talk something with a nurse, and left to a direction the nurse pointed to him. Duncan returned in a few minutes and sat on the edge of his chair. "I called the station, don't need to bring the car there tonight. What about a bottle of beer and a wee bit of supper? My place is 10 minutes drive from here and there's a Chinese takeaway-place across the street. Nobody's died of food-poisoning for years, they tell me. At least you would have full stomach waiting. And there's a good sofa at my place if you want to have a nap before coming back here. I gave them my number, in case they need to reach you before you're back."

The Controller looked at him. "That's very kind of you, lad. But you don't need to bother really, you can go now. It's all right, you have done even more than your share, and done well."

Duncan stood up. "Nah, Sir, do come on. You're not supposed really to hear anything for at least two first hours anyway. I know what it is to wait like this. And you get back here quickly enough."

Some momentary flicker in the lad's eyes told the older Scot that he really _did_ know what it was to wait. He thought for a moment. "All right then. This day has been sweet and sour anyway. I guess some rice and noodles fit in." His smile was bleak but it was a smile anyway and he stood up. "What made you think I would want to stay waiting?"

Duncan shrugged. "Well it just felt obvious. First turn to the right and we get out quicker..."

* * *

It was almost midnight when Dr Hammond finally walked towards Mr Cowley who straightened in his chair. "So far so good. We managed to stop the bleeding which was not heavy in itself but had been constant, and we managed to remove the clot, and when mr Bodie wakes up, we'll be wiser about his general neurological status. He'll be moved to intensive care, and will be monitored closely through the night. But everything went well as far as we can tell at the moment, and if there are no complications, he has every chance for a full recovery what comes to this trauma. His shoulder is another matter and the orthopedics will have a look at it later."

Mr Cowley sighed of relief. "When can I see him?"

The neurosurgeon shrugged. "Morning should be ok, if everything goes fine. How perky he is then, that remains to be seen. It's best if you phone before coming, so the nurse can tell you when it's best time to visit to get a chance to talk with a doctor. But now you can go and have some sleep in all peace and quiet, mr Bodie is stable and well looked after." The doctor shook Controller's hand and left.

The Scot heard a sound and turned. Duncan stretched and yawned. That lad really had Bodie's talent in sleeping. "Sorry I fell asleep sir. Was that voice the doctor?" Constable pulled himself straight in the chair and started to look more awake.

"Aye. Everything had gone well, he said."

Duncan smiled. "Why that is good news! Now, do you wish I drive you to your hotel, and maybe fetch you tomorrow if you want to see the kitten and mr Bodie, or will you drop me at my place and drive yourself? Me Gramp is in here too, they operated his hip today." He was already on his feet and stretching his back.

The Controller couldn't help quipping. "Has anyone ever told you that you are annoyingly energetic, constable?"

The young man grinned. "No, they usually leave it to that annoying. The ones that are civilized, I mean. For the rest I'm a pain in the ... err... "

That made the older man laugh. "All right, take me to the hotel", he said finally. "And then you go to bed too, lad, and without a bottle!"

Duncan shuddered. "No nay never no more, sir!"

The older man chuckled. "Good. But off we go now..." and so they did.


End file.
